


That Which Lurks Within

by Bittiface



Series: Matters of the Heart [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Keith (Voltron), BAMF Lance (Voltron), Brainwashing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Emotions!!, Friendship is Magic, Gen, Haggar is Mom of the Year, Imprisonment, Kidnapping, Kuron tries his best, Lance (Voltron) Angst, Lance (Voltron) Whump, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, Langst, Multiple Pov, Not, Obsessive Villain, Space Opera, Whump, eventually, like soap operas but in SPACE, magical injuries, team punk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-09-25 17:13:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 32,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17125430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bittiface/pseuds/Bittiface
Summary: Sequel to AmygdalaThe dark spell wasn't defeated; only weakened temporarily. Despite this, Lance tries to push past it's attempts to overpower him, thanks to the lessons he learned last time. However, with a certain Prince now influencing Allura and Shiro, Lance find himself getting pushed back into obscurity, and his worst fears being fed. Little does he know, there is someone out there who is very interested in the Blue Paladin who was capable of withstanding a druid's influence.-Following on plot threads I missed in Amygdala and running wild with them. Takes place roughly in season 5/6, timey wimey, canon compliant-ish but will steadily devolve into an eldritch horror of derailing and unsupervised whims.I want to make longer chapters than I had been doing in my previous fics (which were roughly 1300 words on average). This chapter is 3520 words, and I hope to make future chapters longer. This'll mean chapters will take more than a few days to write, but I hope you can stick with me!





	1. Relapse

It had been weeks since that mission; Haggar was still out there, and Lance still had something dark inside him. It wasn't as powerful. He'd definitely weakened it when Haggar had tried too hard to push him to break back there on that colony. But it was manageable. He had his team. His friends. He had Shiro, who Lance now saw why Keith had loved the guy so much.  
He was like a big brother, or a father. Or one of those teachers who always went above and beyond to care for their students. Yes, Lance felt his heart warm instantly in his presence. 

Everything seemed to be okay again. They had the Voltron Show, which was the most fun Lance had as a paladin to date. The team was whole, and it was solid. Save for some minor hiccups involving a certain exploding planet.

But then Lotor happened.

Ever since the Prince had become a part of the crew, Shiro changed. He was distant. He was harsh. And he certainly did not care for Lance anymore.  
Lance tried to talk to Hunk and Pidge about it, but mistook his distress for jealousy over Allura's relationship with him. Sure, Lance was jealous. He'd admit it. But he also didn't trust Lotor as far as he could throw him. He was scared for her. He was scared for all of them. And he really, really wanted to know why Shiro was giving him the cold shoulder. Weren't they team mates? Weren't they friends?

The darkness grinned within him. Lance could feel it. He felt it, and he would not give in. He remembered that it had been fuelled by animosity, so he tried to do what was opposite of giving in to it. He sought help, despite getting a lot of shrugged shoulders every time he did.

"Coran?" Lance walked into the cryopod room, the man himself going through its systems for maintenance. Coran looked over his shoulder, smiling widely as Lance entered. "Lance! What brings you here? Want to help look for bugs?"

Lance winced. "I'm gunna just pray you mean computer bugs and not.... Anyway." He shook his head. "No, um. You said to talk to you if that weird thing Haggar did acted up again."

Coran immediately left his console and gave Lance his full attention. "Yes. I did. Lance, are you alright?" His voice was steady and serious, concern written clearly in his bright eyes.

"Uhhhh... No?" He gave a sheepish grin, rubbing his hand nervously on his side. He sighed and slumped his shoulders. "I've been worrying about this whole Lotor thing.. and Shiro is acting weird. Everyone keeps saying I'm just jealous.. a-and maybe they're right but.."

Coran settled a hand on Lance's head, ruffling his neatly combed hair. "Now, now Lance. Stress agitates your illness. Let's get you settled down now, hm?"

Lance sighed. He wanted his concerns to be addressed seriously and properly before he did Space-Yoga with Coran, but the man was right. He was only hurting himself the more he focused on this negative thinking. "Okay.."

So he sat on the cold floor with Coran. They did stretches first, with Coran making odd noises and mantras in ways he believed promoted relaxation. Lance was beginning to think the man was more off his rocker than he previously assumed. Surely Altea hadn't been nearly as ludicrous as Coran makes it out to be. He tuned him out, concentrating on things that actually relaxed him. 

Calm waves that lap against the sandy shore. Bright skies twinkling in the reflection of a clear ocean. Calm nights awash with stars. He removed people from the equation; family made him sad and homesick, and his team was becoming infuriatingly flippant with his feelings. He'd thought they would change after the whole amygdala-corruption nonsense. But no, it was back to square one. It hadn't been this bad all the time had it? It had been better when Keith was...

Lance huffed, finding his heart rate climbing again. "Relax, Lance!" Coran yelled from several feet away, his body twisted into a pretzel. "Breathe deeply!"

Lance smirked slightly at the sight of him. Okay, he thought. Breathe slow, focus on the yoga.

He hadn't missed antagonizing Keith when Shiro had been nicer. But now, with new Lotor-loving Shiro, Lance felt cast aside with no place. He breathed in slow again, stretching his arms out toward his toes, pressing his forehead against the cool metal of the floor. If only that surly mullet head hadn't left to become a space-ninja. Or maybe not. The guy would just side with Shiro, attitude or not, and leave Lance in all their shadows.

One friend. That's all he asked. Just _one_. He just wanted one friend who he could confide in, who he could laugh with, talk with. Someone who understood. Someone who was...

He sighed again, rolling to his back and pushing himself into a backward bridge. Trying to solve his internal issues within his own mind only fuelled that weird darkness inside. He knew this, but had no means of venting without having his worries invalidated by teasing team mates or impatient leaders. 

A strange thought passed him by, like a shadow at the corner or your eye that you aren't sure was real or not..

He thought Haggar would make a better family than his current team.

The thought scalded his skin. Haggar was the enemy, but the memories of cool hands on his skin and sweet words comforting into his ears kept luring his thoughts back to it. Rationally, he knew well enough that Haggar was not to be trusted. She destroyed planets, killed millions, and tortured prisoners. 

Lance let out a loud groan and flopped back onto his back.

Coran untangled himself from his odd form of yoga and looked over at Lance with a frown. "Still unable to relax, Lance? Are you alright?"

Lance frowned at the ceiling, his stomach sick with shame and guilt.

"I'll live."

\- - - 

Haggar mulled over the data of her previous experiments, the bright purple of the floating screen bathing her lab in an eerie miasma. One resulting conclusion had her tapping her long nails over a certain point of writing; spikes in emotion compromised decision making, prompted violent tantrums, often leading to dire consequences. Something so simple, so widely known, yet not ever properly utilized as a means of control. If she could weaponize this...

She could take apart Team Voltron from within; allow them to defeat themselves. But with her son on that ship, she had to play her cards very, very carefully.

She moved from her screen, looking over objects set neatly on row after row of shelving. Lotor.. how could she have forgotten being a mother? All that time wasted aiding her corrupted husband with taking over the universe, while her son was left to the mercy of a hateful army. What would it take to get him back? Were they both too far gone?

And Voltron.. well, they were allied with him. So if she attacked them openly, it would ruin her chances with him. But still, she had two potent experiments living on that ship. One was easy to influence. She'd made it herself, after all. But the other..

It was proving very difficult to fully corrupt the Blue Paladin. He was much more mentally fortified than she'd thought. She had mistaken him for weak and vulnerable. However, there was a stubbornness that clung like glue. Some semblance of hope and loyalty that kept him attached to his humanity and his team.

If it didn't break him on it's own, then she'd have to take a much more hands on approach.

\- - -

Lance didn't know why he hadn't tried this sooner! 

After finally learning how to use that absurd Altean pool, it was like being on Earth again. He dove into the clear blue water, and felt instant relief as cool wetness slid across his dark skin. He moved seamlessly through the mass, his muscles picking up the movements he'd long since let rust. He breached the surface, turning and relaxing on his back as he softly pulled himself across the large expanse of the pool.  
His body was afloat, adrift here in the physical world and inside his own torrent of a mind scape. He felt the water lap against his cheek; droplets fall across his skin. He felt both apart from himself and more in tune. Balanced. He could just imagine the delicate melody of home in the back of his mind. The silence of the room, save for the sounds of his own swimming and the disturbance of the water, was no longer menacing or oppressive. It was calm. It was peaceful.

He stared up at the floor below, which was trippy and almost made him lose his grasp on tranquility if he thought too hard on it. Space was a cacophony of no ups or downs, and had no place inside of a castle.

He closed his eyes and imagined fish, bright and tropical, tickling his toes. 

He imagined gulls crying overhead.

Imagined the breeze rustling over the green trees on the shore.

This spot. This moment, and these memories. This would be his happy place. A place to come home to if reality became too much. Friends and family may bring pain and loss, but this mind scape of fish, trees and blue skies could only bring him a smile.

That utopia shattered when Lotor's lilting cadence seeped into the room.

Him and Allura entered, and almost instantly caught sight of Lance up above them. "Ah, Lance. I didn't know you'd be here." Allura called from the ground floor, her proximity to Lotor too close not to be on accident. 

Lance felt his mood sour. "Yep! Just.. workin' on the bod, yanno? Gotta keep fit for all that--"

"What a curious design." Lotor interrupted, paying as little mind to Lance as he could. "Do tell me about it's purpose, Princess."

Lance grumbled to himself, racing to the edge of the pool as their voices carried over from far below him. Time to make a hasty retreat, since he had no place here, nor a desire to have one.

\- - -

A new, disturbing thing was happening to Lance; He felt an overwhelming urge to be actively vindictive. 

What had once been fleeting thoughts of petty disagreement or playful mischief, was now a strong impulse to lash out. He was with Pidge and Hunk, as they looked into ways to fuse Galran and Altean tech. Pidge had merely asked Lance to fetch her a part. But it was the way she said it. Like he was being given a task so he'd get out of her hair. And when he walked towards where he thought he might find it, he heard Hunk chuckle, "No, Lance, those parts are Altean. We need the Galran stabilizer. It's over there."

Lance could only see dark amusement in Hunk's gaze, even though he knew rationally that Hunk would never be that way. But it settled in anyway, quickly staining his view.

Lance huffed and stalked over to the other side of the room, grabbing the only part that looked like it might match the description he'd been given. When he was back at Pidge's side, she held out a hand, not even looking at him.

So Lance held it higher, and said nothing.

Pidge huffed and looked up finally, glaring at Lance through her lenses. "Lance, not the time. Just give it to me." 

Lance narrowed his eyes, and took a step back. "A please or thank you would be nice." He grumbled, loosely swinging the part back and forth. Pidge gave it a once over and rolled her eyes, getting up and shoving past him. "That's not even the right part. Why are you even here, Lance?"

_Why are you even here?_

"Well excuse me! I'm not an engineer, Pidge!"

Lance didn't look to see what Hunk's reaction to him would be; shame and embarrassment washing over his dark petty attempts at attention. He left the room, after letting the spare part fall onto Pidge's desk.

The heavy doors shut behind him, and he found himself in a cold, empty hallway. Or at least.. it should have been cold. But his face felt like fire, eyes swimming with burning misery, his body overheating as his emotions overwhelmed him. It was hard to breathe. He could barely see.

_Oh no._

The telltale wave of dizziness weighed down his head. He might black out. But he didn't want to do it here, right outside the Lab. Lance used the wall as support, letting the cool metal bring him some semblance of relief. He moved forward down the hallway, unsure where he could go that would be close enough to rest in, but far enough not to be seen.

Sometimes the waves of heat and sickness would ebb, making him think maybe it was going away. But then more thoughts of the recent altercation stabbed back into his eyes and made him double over. The illness was sinking it's claws into the lapse in control Lance had shown it. It was sucking him dry of his own energy, replacing it with something horrible and muddy.

Why? Why? Out of everything he had to compete with, this had to happen too? Insecurity as he was surrounded by talent and skill that far outclassed him, the feeling of smallness as his team seemed to leave him alone more and more, worry that his place on the team was simply not as needed as everyone else. Maybe not even wanted at all. All of that, plus a magic illness that fed off of his negative thoughts. 

He was always chasing, but his target never got closer. Only further and further away.

_What am I doing out here?_

Lance thought he'd been the king of positive thinking. He was so wrong. Every small uncertainty manifested into engorged leeches, taking away precious energy and replacing it with thick, awful despair. And he wanted to give in. It was always hard to fight it, like swimming upstream but with nothing to gain. 

But he had to. If not for himself, if not for the team, then simply because he wouldn't let Haggar win. Maybe the universe didn't need him.. but it didn't need Haggar either.

Did she even know what she was doing to him? Where was she? What was she up to?

Lance finally collapsed onto his knees, his limbs heavy and shaking. He felt awful. When he'd first pushed Haggar back down in that lab, he thought he'd won. He'd felt so alive and powerful. Now...

"Lance?"

Lance looked up. Shiro walked quickly closer, kneeling down in front of him. A tightness formed in his chest. "Lance. Tell me what's happening."

An order. An order from a commander to a misbehaving soldier.

His gut churned uncomfortably, and some odd ringing started to pierce his ears. "It's that thing again.." He slurred out. Somehow Shiro's presence was making this worse, muddying up all of the attempts he'd made to make this dizzy spell fall into a manageable plateaux. He felt like he might become sick.

There was a long pause, and Lance could just imagine the exasperation or disappointment his leader might be feeling toward him. Lance was useless enough as is during downtime, and now he might compromise missions in this state. 

"Let's get you to the infirmary." Shiro helped Lance stand, shouldering most of his weight as they made their way to the med bay.

\- - -

When Lance finally got to lay down on the bed in the infirmary, he felt like he'd pass out right then and there. Coran and Shiro's voices were warbled and hard to understand now. After slipping in and out of consciousness for a while, he managed to catch the tail end of a conversation.

"But keeping him away from the team could make this worse!" He heard Coran argue. Shiro's voice followed, and it was even more cold and demanding than ever.

"He's already the worse we've seen him. Clearly your therapy isn't working. We might be better off to leave him here for a while. I'm calling it now."

Footsteps, hard and focused, leaving the room. Lance cracked his eyes open just in time to see Coran hurriedly flee as well.

But then...

What?

He tried to lift his head, but it felt nailed down. His soul was whirling around inside the shell of his body like boiling water in a closed pot. They were going to leave him here? All alone? What had he done to Shiro to make him turn his back on him so fully?

Wait.. maybe that was it. All the comfort and care he'd given Lance, and nothing to show for it, right? Lance had done nothing for Shiro.. only took and took and took. Maybe that was the case with his team, too. They didn't want him around because all he did was annoy them and try and bring them down to his level. 

NO! No. These thoughts are the Spell, not the truth. He'd learned that last time. But still.. they were so loud..

If they knew he was suffering... why hadn't they tried to help him? Why had they shrugged him off anyway? Why had they teased and laughed?

A sudden and jagged pain ripped through his brain, heating up every organ in his body. He screamed out a sharp and painful call of pain, holding his head and burying his face in his pillow. Only a few moments later, the castle's alarms began to blare.

Something was coming.

Some One was coming.

\- - -

"Allura! What's happening?"

The team met on the bridge, which was flashing red and blue with warnings and information. Lance was not present. Hunk noticed right away. "Wait, where's Lance?"

"In the med bay. He's not well. Allura?" Shiro's tone was clipped, and not to be questioned. Hunk felt uncomfortable with worry, but let it be for now. After all, it looked like a fleet was approaching them.

"There is a sizeable fleet of Galra getting ready to attack. Everyone out in the lions now. Coran, man the castle and provide support." She moved off the platform, levelling Shiro with a worried glance. "I hope we can manage this without Voltron.." 

"We'll have to." Shiro insisted. Allura turned to Lotor, "Is it possible they are after you?"

Lotor nodded. "Yes.. I imagine it's one of the warlords unhappy with the state of the Galra reign. Not many are happy I have taken the throne, and quite a few have branched off into warring sectors. Shall I assist you in combat?"

Allura was hesitant, but gave a nod. They needed all the help they could get.

Everyone filed out, separating to their own lions, sans Red. 

\- - -

Lance was sweating through his clothes. He wasn't sure he'd ever been this bad off. There must be something nearby agitating this weird thing he had happening in his brain. Those sharp pains kept coming back, making him nearly vomit from the sensation. The castle shook. Someone must be attacking. He should be out there. He should help them. His place, his purpose, was too tentative now to lose this chance.

But he was stuck by his own ailing body. 

The lights shut off in the Infirmary. A dull glow from select emergency lights remained. He cracked his eyes open again, vision blurry and askew. Something appeared in the room, a wobble of shadow. It wormed its way toward him, straight out of a nightmare. Glowing eyes, and clawed fingers reaching out to him.

The pain shot up high, and crashed down so hard he blacked out entirely.

\- - -

"What just happened?" Allura called out, breath short after having fought hard for a solid ten doboshes. The whole fleet had simply fled. Gone. They had clearly had the advantage, yet...

"Maybe once they saw Lotor's ship, they decided to run?" Pidge offered, voice uncertain. 

"Yeah, I'll take that." Hunk concurred. 

Uncertain, but with nothing else to accomplish out there, the team filed back into the castle. Hunk branched off from the group to check on Lance. Everyone else was already on the Bridge.

They discussed the events over and over, trying to figure out it's purpose. Theories only, and nothing solid to go by. Did Lotor's presence deter them, or was it the reason they attacked in the first place? 

Then Hunk barged into the bridge, panting and alarmed.

"G-guys? I can't find Lance!"

\- - -

Coran scanned the entire ship. Lance was gone. Truly missing.

Pidge tried to work with Allura to track the Galran fleet, but they were long gone. Lotor left the ship, promising to use every resource he could spare in locating their lost Paladin. Shiro stood by, stoic and mission driven.

Hunk wasn't sure, but his stomach told him something was wrong. Something was off. Unable to get any of his teammates to stick together, he worked with Coran to get a message out to the Blades.

\- - -


	2. Whispers in the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haggar begins her full fledged project, with Lance as her main subject. Lance remains asleep, lost in the dark realm of his cursed mind. Keith leaves the Blades to find his missing friend, and Hunk struggles to keep a team on the same page.

Project Kuron was a massive success. Not only did Haggar have an inside look into Voltron's activity, she could also keep an eye on her wayward son. Kidnapping a Paladin was icing on the cake. Haggar felt pleased to confirm that the boy did indeed still have the spell woven securely where she'd first placed it. Deep in his brain, ingraining itself in his consciousness, his memories, his emotions. To know it had gained in strength all on it's own, thanks to the Paladin in question being so insecure and uncertain.   
A busy team focused on saving the universe only enforced this obligation to take care of his own needs.

Haggar stood in her lab, outfitted to accommodate her new acquisition. A separate section was boxed in with a purple forcefield, keeping the sleeping Paladin locked within. Resting on a bed, perfectly comfortable. Haggar brewed a multitude of different ideas in her head of things she could do with this young man. Experiment further, pushing the threshold of how far the pain of emotions would break him. She could try and condition him to work for her. At the end of the day, if she got bored, he'd make lovely RoBeast material.

As for Team Voltron, she was pleased to witness; they were falling apart. Divided by what actions should be taken to retrieve their Paladin. She of course made sure to keep them from her by manipulating their leader to steer the conversation towards distraction. Such as other planets that need immediate assistance. She'd have to come up with some red herrings to keep them off her tail. She wanted to work on this boy with no interruptions.   
So long as these Paladins kept her son from harm, they could do as they wished. The empire no longer interested her. That belonged to her son, and he was plenty capable to lording over it on his own. He was not much like his father, though the danger was there.

Keep her son safe and happy. Expand her understanding of the universe one brain at a time.

She looked again to the sleeping teen, his breathing evened out thanks to the medicine she'd had the druids give him. Apparently stress can actually make a human ill. How terribly interesting. Such a fragile race of creatures these humans were. She would have to be careful not to kill him on accident. 

She did always enjoy a challenge.

\- - -

Keith felt cold.

Kolivan had just delivered the request from the Castle of Lions. More specifically, from Coran and Hunk. Lance had been taken, and was under the influence of a debilitating Druid curse that made his emotions too intense to handle. It was a lot of information to take, without adding Lotor being their new tag along to top it all off.

Lance was missing. Taken. He'd last left his team mate on somewhat strange circumstances. They had only just gotten around to being vulnerable around each other, the trust slowly building, before Keith ran. Now he felt like maybe he'd made a mistake.

"I realize it might be a bad idea to send you out on this mission, considering how close you are to the Paladins. But I'm short staffed, and your knowledge of them might serve you well in finding their missing member."

Keith nodded, his nerves steeling themselves for the difficult mission ahead. "I'll start scouting for leads into druid activity. It makes more sense they'd be behind this, since the attack on the castle wasn't normal. I'll keep in touch." At that, Keith left the base, taking the ship assigned to him and heading out into space.

And boy, was there a lot of space.

Overwhelmed, Keith tried to focus on coordinates that aligned with recent druid locations and activity. He wasn't actually sure if it was a druid ship that took Lance. It could have been any Galra; but the fact that they left as soon as Lance was taken meant they must have had intended this to be the outcome. And who in the empire had any ties to Lance, aside from the experiment Haggar had done on him?

Haggar... that was a name he didn't care to hear. Any time word or footage of her experiments or meddling came to his ears, it only left him with nightmares. She'd been Zarkon's right hand, but even then she'd been a bit of an outlier. Without Zarkon, was she less dangerous? Or more so without the confines of her position?

More so it is.

After all, without an agenda planned by an evil tyrant, there was no telling what she would focus on.

\- - -

Lance leaned against a warm body, large and comfortable. He looked up at Hunk in his Garrison uniform, as the larger boy laughed at a joke he'd just made. Looking around him, Lance took in the crowd of cadets milling around the common area between classes. A military base was the least fun place in the world, but stuffing a bunch of teenagers in one place meant fun was to be had somewhere. 

"So, his weekend? Party in our dorm? We order pizza, pick out some games, maybe later we can sneak in some girls?" Lance suggested with a twinkle in his eye. His heart was filled with excitement, mirth bubbling within his eyes.

Suddenly the room seemed to go cold. The people around him stopped moving. The body he was leaning against pulled away, causing Lance to stumble.

Lance looked up into Hunk's eyes and felt his stomach plummet. Hunk was looking at him with cold disgust.

"Get serious, Lance."

Girls giggled, sneering behind him when he turned to look.

He looked back to Hunk, but he was dressed in full armour, stalking away into the mouth of the yellow Lion. He looked so powerful. So strong and capable. Hunk was a genius. Hunk was kind. Hunk was perfect. Lance tried to reach out to him, but was knocked back by a sudden roar. He wasn't worthy of being Hunk's friend. He was nothing compared to him.

He fell, the Garrison around him gone. He sat on the dusty desert ground, looking up as all the lions left Earth, and him, behind. 

Hurt pooled in his throat, his eyes stung. "M-mom?" He called out, and the scene shifted. A warm kitchen, a glowing mother figure softly humming from somewhere unseen. He could hear giggles of girls again, berating him for calling for his mother. Berating him for needing comfort at all.

"Some Paladin." Keith appeared from around a corner, crossing his arms over his chest. "Barely a pilot, a nothing of a fighter. Crying for his mommy when shit goes downhill."

Lance gulped, scurrying backward. He felt angry at Keith, felt his skin burn like acid as tears warmed his cheeks. This was humiliating. He didn't want to be weak in front of Keith. But there was nowhere to hide, no bravado coming from his quivering lips. The vulnerability forced upon him weaponized and stabbed at his mind under Keith's scrutinizing gaze.

"You're a Wannabe, Lance. You were never my equal." 

Iverson slammed a hand on his desk, Lance flinching as he looked up at the stern man. He was in a classroom. All eyes were on him. "Is this a Joke to you, Mcclain?" He growled, "You waste my time playing hero. This is the Military, not a McDonad's play-place."

No, no he knew that. He just... He really thought he was meant for this. He wanted it so badly. Wanted to be a cool fighter pilot just like Shiro. Wanted to get all the good grades and attention from Faculty that Keith did. "Want? Want? But do you deserve it? No. Save this desk for a cadet who earns it."

"Wake up, Lance. Face the facts."

Pidge, staring up at him through her glasses. "You can talk big game all you want, but you have to realize you're taking up precious little time we have. There's a universe that needs saving. No one has time for video games and movie nights, and especially not for your melodramatic tantrums."

No one has time for children.

He saw family look at him through the glass of the windows, scowling in disappointment and walking away. "Please.." He croaked, getting up, limbs heavy, and staggering to the door. "Please, I'll try harder..."

"I'll do anything!"

But the text books he tried to read were gibberish on the page. The flight simulator flashed red and crashed with every turn and decision he made. His legs gave out every drill he ran.

Maybe they were right.

Maybe he wasn't meant to be a paladin.

Maybe he wasn't meant to be anything at all.

There was darkness, all encompassing. He sank into dark and heavy waters, pushing down on his chest as he sank. He mourned for his future, dark and empty. Void of potential. Mourned for the friends who outgrew him. The hollow of his heart held a dull ache. Empty, and waiting to be filled with something. 

Anything.

\- - - 

Haggar grinned with victory. The boy's heart was ripe for the taking. Having had much more time to work on the Paladin's mind, she found herself gliding through his memories and dreams, weaving her spell to manipulate them to her liking. The other druids circled herself and the boy as he lay there in the summoning circle, brimming with dark magic. She could see and feel what he did as she closed her eyes and dove into the depths of the spell. He was putty to be moulded into her choosing. 

Now then, where to go from here...

\- - - 

This cold darkness below the ocean was unforgiving and distant. Lance curled into himself, the sharp sting of abandonment poking holes in his resolve. He needed love. He needed a hug or something. A warm hug that healed you from the inside like Hot Cocoa. Wanted comfort, fingers through his hair and soft easing encouragement murmured in his ear.

But only silence waited for him. Empty, unkind silence.

He supposed he lived here now, in this realm sealed off from the world. Forgotten and left for dead. How had his life gone so wrong? How could he ever make it right again? He wanted his life back. He missed being loud and goofy without feeling bad for it. Missed how easily jokes rolled off his tongue. Missed being unapologetically _himself_. He wanted his heart back, whole and fluffy with love and happiness. He wanted hope back. He wanted his confidence and strength back.

But the more he wished and wanted and hoped, the emptier and colder it got. 

Memories that used to bring him joy seemed to turn black with rot, the edges peeling and fading away. Pieces of it turning to mush, falling apart and becoming unrecognizable. Even the ocean seemed to leave him, as he lay on the ground of rocks and wet sand. The comfort of an entire ocean no longer hugged his skin. Only bony joints pushing uncomfortably against the rocky ground. 

He felt selfish. He was willing to take anything at this point to feel a semblance of relief from this solitary confinement. 

A cold hand settled softly on his cheek, and he felt the muscles in his face relax and soften. "Lance.." It whispered from somewhere far away, "Poor, poor thing.."

Lance shivered, curling tighter into his ball. No.. No he wasn't weak.. If he let this kind presence soothe him, he was just as childish and weak as all those apparitions told him. Don't be vulnerable.. lie, lie, lie and fake and pull on that mask of confidence. Be someone else if he had to, anyone but himself.

"Sshh.. Lance. Don't panic." It murmured again, thumb tracing circles on his cheekbone. "It's not like that here."

Pillars of strength crumbled inside him, puffing into dust right down to its foundation. He sniffed, feeling the heat behind his eyes give way to the start of tears. Something warm was embracing him, soft and comforting. A blanket? A hug? His senses were askew, delirious as if between a dream and wakefulness. 

"I was a mother once." She murmured, cooing softly into his hair as nails dragged carefully through dark strands. "My son is lost. Just as you are lost. I know you wish to return to the arms of your own mother.."

Flashes of his home, warm with laughter and mischief, dance before his eyes. But darkness falls, screams peel out, and all he sees then are blasts of purple gunfire, and a planet consumed by death.

"The Galra would take them from you. That's why you haven't gone home. You brave, brave son. Sacrificing your heart to keep your dear mother safe from harm. How noble.. how selfless.."

Visions left him again, and he opened his eyes to the robes of the one holding him. His vision was blurry, and he had trouble focusing on details. The more he tried, the dizzier and heavier it made him feel. He slumped into the embrace, a groan escaping him without permission. He felt the figure give a low chuckle as it continued to hold him closely, carefully.

"Your Team.. That Voltron. They tried to kill the gentle son you were, into a role not suited to you. They belittled you, didn't they?" He felt flashes of anger and hurt, hearing the voices of his team scoff at him when he was simply being himself. Goofy, confident, happy. They saw them roll their eyes or tease them with smirks when he let his walls down. Never satisfied with him, never giving him positive feedback. The smallest of victories given eye rolls or shrugs. He was swatted down every time he tried to fly.

Where to now? Where did they expect him to fit in? Where did he belong?

"Here." She murmured, placing his hand on her heart. "You fit in right here."

And he felt it, a warm energy that pulsed with life. Tendrils of purple energy curled over his tanned fingers, threading and looping elegantly across his skin and over his chest. "Let me in, noble and brave paladin. Rest. Let your mother embrace you."

And for a moment, he saw her. His own mother, clad in her usual apron, her hugs warm and comforting. Her voice lilted in his ear, he could feel the tickle of her curly hair brush against his cheek. 

The moment faded, but the embrace he was held in was just as comforting. The texture of her hair was different, long and strange to the touch. Her skin cooler, but felt sort of nice against his warmed skin. Her robes smelled of a living electricity, sharp and intense. He shuddered in his arms, but remained feeling lethargic and heavy. 

"Good boy." 

\- - -

Haggar watched as the druids laid Lance down to rest once more on the bed within the confines of her lab. Tucked in properly, and sealed inside the barrier, she turned away from her adorable little project and began going through her data. The druids left her to her work, and she brought up a hovering distortion by her side. 

Images beyond it's edges showed whatever it was Kuron was looking at. Currently, said thing seemed to be something unrelated to Lotor, and it lost her interest quite quickly. She left it running, letting the audio run in the background as she pooled through data and images she'd drawn out of Lance's mind. 

It felt delightfully satisfying to be kept so busy. Ever since the Komar project had been a success, she never had to wait long for large doses of Quintessence to keep her body thriving and powerful. As such, manipulating the mind of a vulnerable teenage human was child's play, and almost therapeutic in it's simplicity. Yes, this was so much easier without a time limit prodding her in the back. 

She looked back at the resting paladin, kept in a constant slumber to keep him under her control. She was starting to feel that this little project would become one of her favourites. Something drew her to him. Having him in her care filled a hole within her life she had been looking for all this time. 

She might not have earned Lotor back yet, but at least she had this one. The paladins didn't stand a chance of taking him away from her.

A conversation, elevating in volume, suddenly caught her attention.

She looked toward the summoned distortion, peeking in on Team Voltron.

\- - -

"Shiro, how can you say that?!"

Hunk stared up at his leader, a man who'd been so steady and warm hearted, turned into someone he barely recognized. "It's just as I said, Hunk. Lotor has everyone he can spare on the look out for Lance, so in the meantime we have to focus our own efforts into helping him with his ships."

"But we know it was a druid who took him! We saw the security footage. If Lotor really wants to help--"

"Hunk, calm down." Shiro cut him off sternly, his gaze giving no hint of room to argue. Lotor stepped forward, his face a mask of concern and empathy. "That witch will be found, I swear to you all. In the meantime, despite being down Voltron, it is imperative we continue to strengthen my ships with Altean alchemy. And I am afraid I will need your Princess to make this happen."

"Why?" Pidge piped up, curiosity laced with scrutiny. They were already down Lance, and now Allura had to keep on fixing up the Prince's ship? "How is that any of this important right now? Our friend has been captured, and we can't form Voltron without him."

"I understand, but Haggar is made powerful by draining planets of quintessence. If we are to go against her, we'll need stores of it far greater than we have. Not only that, my resources within the empire are limited by those who still deny my power. I can find young Lance much faster if I am able to sway a greater portion of my empire into following me. And quintessence is key to that power."

Allura seemed troubled, but didn't speak up. She seemed torn between getting Lance to safety, and her own duties to protecting the universe. Shiro simply stood by, fully committed to Lotor's word. Hunk felt like his eyes had a colder, deadly edge to them.

"I'll go on my own! Or-or I take Pidge!" Hunk tried, frantically pleading with his leader as he thought of his dear friend trapped and alone out in space. Possibly under the none-too tender care of an alien witch doctor. "Most of what you guys do is just magic alien stuff anyway! You don't need us all the time!"

"Hunk, stop it." Shiro's gaze bore into Hunk like a sudden bullet. "We need to stand by. There is a whole universe out there that needs us, not just Lance. He's a tough guy, he can handle himself."

Hunk couldn't stand this. It was like the team didn't exist anymore. Like Shiro was another person. His only solace was knowing he and Coran had already contacted Keith to help, outside of Shiro's knowledge. But still...

He thought of Lance. His easy going, care free friend from the Garrison. His dumb jokes making him laugh, his fun sense of adventure getting him into trouble. He missed being pushed around to do crazy things he was scared of. Missed that lanky arm casually falling over his shoulder. He wanted that warm, familiar comfort back. He missed Lance so much.

Pidge stepped in front of Hunk, her bright gaze just as sharp as Shiro's. "Yes, Shiro. Lance is a tough guy.. a tough guy who's also very sick, and heavily weakened by a tenacious brain curse." Pidge sighed heavily, "You know what? Fine. We'll stand by. C'mon Hunk." Pidge tugged at Hunk's arm, pulling him from the main hall of the Prince's castle ship. Hunk followed, looking back once at the trio behind them.

"Pidge.."

"I know. C'mon."

They had a lot to talk about. If their leaders weren't on their side, if said leaders saw fit to practically ground them, then Team Punk would have to take matters into their own hands.

Very, very subtly. 

\- - -


	3. Firewall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team struggles. Lance fights back.

Lance awoke slowly to the sound of a strange energy humming around him. His bedroom space was veiled in a soft purple glow. The bedding beneath his body was soft, allowing his weight to sink into it like a warm foam. A puffy comforter was resting over his form. He groggily pushed at the plush softness of it, groaning with effort as he lifted his body to sit up. 

_Where am I?_

The room was so alien to him. The walls seemed almost transparent, hinting at space beyond it's borders. The bed was rather large, almost too posh for him. A sleek dresser rested against one of the glowing barriers. Nothing else really stood out to him. His mind felt fuzzy. Threads of thoughts and memories incomplete and frayed at the ends. 

Lance brushed his hair back with his hands, scratching the back of his neck as he croaked out a yawn. 

"You're awake."

The haggard voice startled him, his body turning to the side to look at the speaker. There stood Haggar, seamlessly walking through the wall as if it were liquid. Maybe it was. The fear and loathing he thought he might feel upon seeing her stern face didn't activate. He remembered he'd harboured such feelings once, but they no longer connected to his current view on her. What had happened to change that? Looking at her now, he felt almost fond of her.

"Um.. yeah." His fingers came around to lightly rub at his throat, his voice coming out strained as if he hadn't spoken in days. "How long was I out..?"

"A few quintants. You had a terrible fever. It only broke a short while ago. How are you feeling?" Lance dropped his gaze, brows knitting in concern. Fever? When.. where.. But again, he found only frayed ends where memories were supposed to lead from facts. He knew he'd been unwell. He remembered sweating, feeling like his skin was on fire. Remembered a panic tearing his body apart. But no images came to mind. Only the feeling of it. Where had he been before here?

Not to mention he didn't understand why Haggar was being so nice to him.

"Um.. okay, I guess? Tired, kind of heavy? My chest feels a bit tight, and my brain is a bit fuzzy." Maybe he really did have a space flu. "Uh.. awkward question, but how do I know you again?"

Enemy? No.. Witch? Maybe..? Pieces of unrelated keywords bobbled about in his mind like tapioca in a shaken bottle of tea. They were all there in the same goo, but nothing connected one fact to the other. 

Haggar feigned hurt, casting her glance to the side. "Oh dear.. that flu really did take its toll on you." She breathed a concerned sigh, and sat herself on the edge of his bed. A cool hand laid over his forehead, wise amber eyes peering into dark and uncertain blue. "You may feel confused for a while yet. Sickness like this wreaks havoc on the body. I want you to rest in bed for a while longer, my son."

Son. No, this woman was not his mother.

At first he felt revulsion, and a strong desire to deny and push back. A crawling fog slowly smothered that fear, dispersing the urgent call for action. "Huh?"

Haggar almost pouted, petting down his messy hair. "There will be plenty of time to get back to your studies. For now, have something to eat, and get some sleep." She left for a moment, returning with a tray. On it was a bottle of what was probably water, and a light assortment of fruits and bread. 

"Eat what you can. You need your strength." Once more she traced the curve of his face with cool finger tips, a coy smile lacing her lips. "I'll be working outside. Please do call if you need me, Lance."

Lance managed a hesitant nod of his head, watching the witch walk out through the liquid barrier again. Outside, from what little he could see, seemed to be a bizarre laboratory. It had rows of blurry shelving, and he wondered curiously what sort of trinkets lined the rows. So maybe not a witch, like her robes seemed to convey. Perhaps a scientist.   
Well, his caretaker was nearby, and concerns of whether she was his mother or nurse went to the wayside for now. 

A delightfully tasty looking meal was waiting to be enjoyed.

\- - - 

"How did we let this happen, Pidge?" Hunk bemoaned, running his hands through his hair as the pair hid away in Pidge's lab. Said paladin sat at the edge of her desk, staring at a spot on the ground with sharp scrutiny.

"We got distracted with Lotor and fixing the Galra empire from the inside. It's just so easy for me to forget that Lance is like 90% bullshit. I mean, I didn't forget he wasn't feeling well but I didn't want to treat him like glass, either." She felt badly, but she also believed if Lance hadn't been sick with a magic brain curse, he would have bounced back so much easier from a teeny amount of neglect.

....okay, maybe she needed to work on that. The boy wasn't a robot! That was one of the only ways to keep her attention, okay? She still wasn't used to this new Lance that got physically tortured by light teasing.

Hunk hid behind no such excuses. He wore his blame like a sad flag of despair. "I'm his best friend! I should have made time for him so he wouldn't relapse! Then maybe the druids wouldn't have gotten the urge to grab him again? What do they even want with him?" Even if Lance wasn't a vital member of Voltron, Hunk and Pidge didn't have any idea what a nasty group of alien scientists would want with a lanky boy from Cuba. Especially having to go through a bit of trouble to do so.

Pidge shook her head, holding her chin in thought. "Maybe they want to study him? And besides all that, how did they know he still had that thing anyway? Even _we_ thought it was fixed until a few days after the colony exploded." 

Hunk flopped to the floor, cheeks in both hands and his elbows digging into his leg armour. 

"That's what I was wondering. Like, back when we confronted Haggar, she said something like knowing Lance would be susceptible to the curse before she even got to him? How would she have known that?"

"You don't think the castle is bugged, do you?" Pidge got up from the table and grabbed her computer. "If it's tech based, I can find it. But knowing this is Haggar.. it could be magic based. In that case, we'd need Allura."

"But Allura is so focused on Lotor and his ship. I dunno if she'll give us the time of day." Every time him and Pidge accidentally crossed paths with the pair, the Prince always seemed to be buttering the Princess up with compliments and ego boosters. He was either very enamoured with her, or he was blatantly trying to earn her undying devotion for ulterior motives. 

Pidge groaned, tucking her laptop under her arm, bringing up her free hand to rub the bridge her nose under her glasses. "We're so messed up. It was a recipe for disaster. The conditions to grab Lance right from under our noses was perfect. A little too perfect."

Hunk gasped, scrambling to his feet and hovering over Pidge. "You don't think Lotor told Haggar, did you? He doesn't know about Lance's condition, does he?"

Pidge shook her head. "I don't know. Too many variables. Lotor wasn't here when Lance first got sick, but that doesn't mean he couldn't have heard about it before he did get here. He says he was exiled before the Kral Xera, and I'm inclined to believe him. Still doesn't mean he couldn't have a hand in this."

The pair moved towards the green lion, entering her cockpit to keep their discussion a little more private. After all, they were talking about a possible spy.

Hunk felt frustrated and hopelessly worried. "They better not hurt Lance. He doesn't deserve this. He has a big, wonderful family waiting for him on Earth, and he's done so much to save the universe. Getting kidnapped by druids who want to poke at his brain? Not fair."

Pidge reclined in her chair, bringing up some files from her laptop and flicking them over to the database within Green. "I also don't like to think that he's out there thinking we hurt him, again. It's all just poor timing and sucky circumstances." She stopped typing for a moment, her heart falling inside her chest. "I also think.. maybe we teased him a bit too much about his crush on Allura.."

Silence stung like the dead of winter.

"It seemed so harmless at the time." Hunk murmured, leaning against the console. "He's always making silly comments about her, and I just thought he wasn't being serious again, yanno? Just joking around? But then he left the room without saying anything after we laughed at him.." 

Laughed at him. Oh Gods, they'd fucked up. Lance had been moping about Lotor and Allura, and they'd just laughed and teased him. How could they have thought their light teasing would help him?

Both of them moaned at the same time, heads in hands.

"It's gunna take more than a food goo fight to fix this mess." Hunk grumbled behind his hands. Pidge had to agree.

\- - -

Keith threw himself into a stolen Galra pod ship, locking the doors and scrambling to the cockpit. He hissed as he held his side, sore from a laser shot that had pummelled his armour. He felt the whole ship shake as defence drones rained bullets outside. This infiltration had been a bust. No druids, only danger. He didn't even have any new leads to help him. 

Weak with pain, but determined to live another day, Keith shot out of the cargo bay and back out into space, dodging fighters and beams of energy. He twisted and turned through debris, hiding behind larger objects until finally he seemed to be out of harm's way.

He felt himself get frustrated. He couldn't lose hope, but knowing Lance was out there, and that Keith might be the only one looking for him? Every failure made his heart hurt. He needed to succeed. For Lance. For Volron. For himself.

After a few hours had passed, he put out a message to any nearby Rebels. He was only one man against a whole universe. One man, with a very nasty wound. He needed a little help.

\- - -

Shiro bent over the sink in the bathroom, brow sweating and head throbbing with pain. Lately, over the last few weeks, he barely felt like himself. He was short with his team, felt impatient with plans. At the time it always felt right, but in moments of clarity, all he had left was a sense of dysphoria, and a lot of pain.

Lance had been taken. He should be upset. He wanted to feel guilty. But something in his brain had been shut off. Pieces were missing, and whenever he tried to access them, more headaches ripped through tender grey matter. It was as if listening to his own heart was akin to stabbing himself in the ear. 

He couldn't bring this up to the team. There was too much to do, and they were a little miffed at him. He was their leader, carrying the weight of their lives and the lives of the innocents of the universe. Yes, he'd had to be more firm with them than usual. He'd made some tough calls that were very risky. But in his heart of hearts, he knew it was for the greater good. 

Shiro washed his face, schooled his nerves, and walked out the door to face another day.

\- - -

Allura had felt conflicted. But now she was bordering on livid. 

Days had gone by, with no word on Lance. Lotor had half the empire under his thumb, yet his intel did not cover the whereabouts of the druids or Haggar? While his reasons always seemed fair, she was starting to question his sincerity. He always said just the right things to keep her busy and distracted, and she'd be remiss to deny she had some feelings for the man. But Voltron, her family, was in pieces across the universe. Lance was in danger.

She wasn't sure how she felt about Lance. He was quirky and usually a little loud, but his own brand of sincerity and kindness was not to be cast aside. Besides, he along with the residents of the Castle of Lions were her family now. She had a duty to see to their safety and well being.

"I could always hold his precious ship hostage." She muttered to herself, gazing up at the Sincline with some degree of spite. 

\- - -

Lance was having dreams. 

Dreams of fighting a war. Dreams of flying through space, fighting bad guys, and being a hero. But he always woke up in a bed, given a book to read, and told to rest when he spoke of such dreams. Haggar was a kind caretaker, but that feeling of something being off nagged at him. He was at war with himself. He wasn't uncomfortable here, but he felt anxious for sitting still too long. It was a soft bed, a kind face, and there was peace. When he tried to fight the urge to stay, he was met with pain. Headaches that split his mind apart, and flashes of violence, neglect and emotional torment. But still, he stood his mental ground.

Trust those instincts, he told himself. 

So when Haggar left for the night, and the lights dimmed, Lance made a move. 

Slipping out of bed, he quietly padded to the edge of the barrier. Haggar always just slipped through it, but now that he was this close, it hummed with a menacing energy. Was.. this dangerous? His gut told him yes, but why would his caretaker trap him behind bars? Sure, it would be easier to let the woman dote on him. But complacency wasn't in the cards for Lance Mcclain.

Steeling his nerves, he aid a hand upon the barrier.

His mind was flooded with a surging wave of nausea burning up his throat. Lance collapsed to the floor, his bones shaking, his skin sweating. He could barely breathe, like his body couldn't remember how. His instincts were now at war with some powerful force surging over what he knew as truth. That force stabbed at the doubts, tearing them limb from limb. 

Lance was terrified. 

Despite the pain, despite the fear, he tried to fight back. He curled what was left of his own free will into a ball and he held on tightly, It made him want to vomit, and it made it hard to breathe, but he held on. There was one doubt he protected above all others; _If she cares so much, why trap me like a dangerous enemy?_ He had to keep questioning. Had to keep fighting. Whatever force was within his mind became more violent, drilling into his protective cocoon. He felt himself throw up for real just then, bent on all fours, fingers clawing at the smooth, cold floor. His body was not made for this kind of pain. He felt his mind, his will, being weakened with every wave and sharp stab. 

Don't give in. Don't give in.

Old, mutated memories painted the shell of his mind's last stand. Memories that told him his friend's were in name only, that the one comrade he'd finally been open and vulnerable with had fled the team, that his leader, the hero he worshipped, thought him too pathetic and weak to give support to anymore. Shiro wasn't kind anymore, he wasn't there for him, and he repremanded him when he tried to speak up. He hates you, the voices told him. 

An image of Haggar started to push away the mutated visions of his former team. She reached out her hand, beckoning him to come with her. It wasn't safe here. Just let go...

Let go? Of this one tiny little doubt that he had? He looked upon the small, shrivelled ball of thoughts he'd tried to protect, and up at the gentle saviour willing to battle visions for him.

Lance swallowed, wondering if he was even awake anymore, or if this hallucination was just that vivid. _What was I fighting for_ , he wonders, fingers loosening on the small little ball in his hand. 

"You'll be happy here." She smiles.

A sharp voice suddenly cracks through his mind, the ball in his hand warm like a candle. 

_"Hey Lance---"_ A smarmy voice, familiar. The colour Red. Lance winces, waiting for the indifference, the rejection, the--

_"I got your lion back."_

Lance blinks. Haggar's vision is frozen in front of him. Time has stopped. That voice he heard.. it was a memory, uncorrupted and true. He closed his eyes, breathed deep, and held the ball closer to his chest. 

_"Thank you Keith. Now can you guys come and unchain me?"_

_"What's that? You're breaking up. I can't-- I can't hear you!"_

Playful banter, making light of a royal goof up on Lance's part. One of the first times he and Keith spoke like friends do. Teasing, playful, kind. Lance added this memory to the near crumbling ball he'd been protecting, shining it up with a new layer. Haggar faded, the real world focused back into view.

He was still alone. There was puke on the ground which Lance tried not to think about. He walked away from it, away from the wall, and sat on his bed. 

So, he had a theory. That barrier must be a spell. A spell activated when Lance tried to leave. Haggar knew he would doubt, knew he would try and leave. She wanted him to touch that barrier, to attack what was left of his true memories, to erase his doubt.

"What does she want with me?" He murmured to himself, breathing an unsteady sigh and wiping his damp brow. He felt sluggish and sick, but his mind was beginning to fortify again. And that was the thing here; Haggar didn't realize Lance had been fighting her stupid little curse for over a month. She may have better access to him now, but he had built up solid firewalls with Coran's help. And despite her meddling, deep down he knew his team, his friends, loved him. It was this awful curse she had put on him that made it hard to connect. And as for Shiro? That was a can of worms he'd unravel when he was feeling better. That was not a problem to try and fix the way he was right now.

He wasn't sure how long he'd be trapped here, but little by little, he was going to get his mind back under his own power. Maybe, if he played his cards right, he'd even find a way to free it completely.

\- - -

Haggar hissed, dropping her hands back to her sides. She'd let her experiment believe he was alone, and set herself up in an adjoining room with the other druids. She'd nearly had him, she was sure of it. But somehow, he'd pushed back again, just like he had back on that colony. It was that odd strength, that relentless faith in his team again. It was that inner strength back then that had led her to want the paladin for herself.

"His mind is much stronger than I anticipated." She grumbled to herself. Another druid approached her, head lowered in respect.

"Surely it would be easier to break him and wipe his mind entirely?"

Haggar shook her head. "I don't want an empty slate. This is practice, you see." She smiled to herself. "It works out well that he is so strong. If I am to fix my own son, I'll need a test subject just as mentally fortified as Lotor. Little Lance is proving to be a delightful challenge."

Yes, he may make things difficult, and she felt her patience wear thin from time to time. However, if she fully succeeds here, then bringing Lotor back into her arms will be child's play.

She did not want a broken toy. She did not want a blank slate. She wanted her son, fully functional and completely devoted.

Best case scenario? She would have _two_ sons by the end of it.


	4. Hope and Despair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team Punk makes a shocking discovery.
> 
> Keith finds an ally, and a big clue to Lance's location.
> 
> Lance finds trouble. A deep, deep well of trouble.

Keith looked down at his boots, sitting in the makeshift infirmary of a hidden outpost belonging to the Rebel Coalition. His side still stung where a field medic applied some burn salve. He was told not to touch it while it did its thing. He _really_ wants to touch it. He kept his fingers snug into the edge of the platform he sat at, his shirtless skin forming goosebumps in the chilled air of the room. Finally, Matt entered the room, having been fetched by the medic on duty. 

Keith lucked out that the man was even here to begin with.

"Keith? Geez, what are you doing here? Is something wrong with the Blades?" Matt looked worried, sitting himself on the edge of a nearby desk. 

"No, the Blades are fine. I just ran into some trouble.." He mumbled, dark brows pushing together. 

"Are you on a mission?" Matt asked, curious.

"Yeah, sort of." He looked up to find Matt looking a little perplexed.

"Ooookay. But you said you needed some help. So..?" Matt raised a hand, rolling his wrist in a gesture to get Keith to get on with his point. Keith breathed in deeply through his nose, then slowly let it out.

"Lance has been captured by druids." The air seemed to leave the room, and Matt's mouth fell open from the shock. He hates admitting it out loud, even though he'd been dealing with it for the last couple days or so. Maybe he and Lance weren't best friends. Maybe they were barely civil some days. But he was a _good_ friend, and a supportive friend. _Important_. Lance was very important.  
With another deep breath, Keith relays what Hunk told him. After it's all out, there's a long silence where they both just absorb the situation.

Matt finally speaks up, "So I'm guessing you need information. But that's more of a Blade thing.. Were they not able to help? Not that I can't help you on my own, of course." Matt grins, a glint of light catching his eye. His face is nothing short of confident. 

Keith smirked, "I'd expect nothing less from Pidge's brother. I need your brain more than anything."

The man himself puffs his chest with pride. "Well, let's see what I can do."

\- - -

It was a lot easier to host secret meetings than they thought it would be. With Lotor and Allura constantly on the Main Ship for the Galran Empire, and Shiro spacing out, sneaking away was easy as pie.   
Team Punk, with assistance from Coran, set aside their busy schedule to meet up and look over Lance's old brain scans, hoping to come up with clues to fixing his ailment if they ever got him back.

No. 

_When._

When they got him back.

"Lance said he thought he had used the curse against Haggar when she tried to take him over, right? But it only weakened it." Pidge paced the floor, looking over the information they had already gathered previously. "And then, somehow, it regained its strength over the last few weeks. If we can figure out the nature of this magic, maybe we can find a way to reverse it, or get rid of it entirely, right?" She looked up to Coran, who was their only hope at this point. If only they had a druid in the alliance. They needed an insider's opinion. 

"Aw man," Hunk sighed, leaning back in his seat, "It was so cool when he did it too. Like, he was practically glowing, yanno?" Their bumbling friend looking so triumphant and powerful? It had made them feel so proud. 

Coran gave a resigned sigh from across the room, walking towards the genius pair. "If only Allura weren't so focused on this project Lotor has her on. Truly, I feel that Lance should be our only priority." Coran felt a bitterness grow that he normally would never give the time of day. The universe was safer than it had ever been. They had allies. Yet their brave Blue Paladin was in enemy hands, and they could do nothing?

It reeked of sabotage.

"I fear there are many unseen hands at work here, to have our hands tied so tightly." Coran murmured, angrily tugging at his moustache. 

"Hunk and I had a similar thought. It seemed odd that Haggar knew to target Lance at all throughout this whole kerfuffle." Pidge agreed, though she had to smack Hunk's arm when he giggled at the word kerfuffle. That boy was such an infant, sometimes.

"Are you insinuating we have a spy?" Coran's face fell into one of grave seriousness. Pidge grimaced, but nodded. 

"At first we suspected Lotor, but he wasn't here when Lance first got sick. When he did get here, I think it was a week or so later that Lance got worse?" She pinched her brow, the detective work feeling more like the lot of them were hamsters on a wheel; a lot of effort to get absolutely nowhere.

"But that only leaves us, Allura, and Shiro as possible spies, right?" Hunk added, looking between the pair with big, woeful brown eyes. "I don't wanna imagine any of us willfully putting Lance in danger like that."

" _Willfully._ " Pidge emphasized. 

"You think one of us is being controlled, then?" Hunk asked with panic in his voice. He was one more theory away from breaking out a tinfoil hat. 

Coran tugged on his moustache one last time, then snapped his fingers. "Welp! Only one way to find out." He marched back to his computer, typing away as flashes of data flickered across the screen. "Number 5, help me work out all this data on Druid curses. We're going to make ourselves a Dark Magic Scanner! If there is an unwilling spy, it's likely they are under Hagger's influence. If we can program a device to detect druid magic, we can find our spy."

Hunk gasped loudly and stood up from his seat. "Really!? We're gunna make something like that? That sounds so cool!" His eyes lit up with eager delight. Not only could they help Lance by finding a sort-of spy? He'd get to make a really cool Magic-Finding thingy! He loved thingies!

"Let's do this!"

\- - -

Lance hated school.

The Garrison had been one thing. He put up with endless hours of memorization and drool marks on his desk, knowing that someday he'd get to fly into space. Or at the very least, get to fly a fighter jet. Something cool, anyway. He'd had a goal then, something he was aiming towards. A thing he wanted above all other things, no matter the muck he had to go through to get there.

But here? With Haggar impatiently trying to make him understand weird science that made no sense? His only goal was 'try not to piss her off'. And he was already failing. 

"What do you want from me?" His outburst came out desperate, finally losing patience. "I'm not a druid. I'm a human! I don't get any of this stuff. You might as well throw me off a cliff and ask me to fly! In fact, why did you take me in, anyway? What did you see in me?" He remembered bits and pieces now. Remembered he was sick before being taken away by a figure in a cloak. He remembered he didn't belong here. But his actual full, cohesive memory, in chronological order? That was floating in pieces inside his head. It was still painful trying to piece them together in his off time.

Haggar sighed heavily, setting aside the tablet she was using to teach Lance the basics of magic. "I took you in because you were in danger. It's what a mother does."

That rang heavily of bull shit. Lance still had this awful feeling of wrongness in everything Haggar said. He knew he was being tricked, knew he was being manipulated somehow. He was sure magic was the reason for all of it. If he could only get a grasp on it, maybe he could fix himself without Haggar's help.

 _You're not my mother_ was poking at the end of his tongue, desperate to be let out. 

"What danger? What did you save me from exactly?" Lance asked carefully, unsure if he wanted to know the answer.

"From pain. Neglect. I could remind you, if you so wish.." She began to reach out a long nailed hand, but Lance flinched back on instinct. 

"N-no, that's okay. I believe you." He smiled wearily, bringing his hands up in surrender. 

She retracted her hand, a sly smile playing from the shadows of her hood.

Lance breathed out a sigh. He knew a lot of his memories were tampered with. He'd recalled some that were not laced with lies and corruption. But the ones that were? They hurt. Filled with hurtful words, disappointed eyes, and a lot of backs that walked away from him. He remembered a feeling of wanting, needing, and feeling nothing but empty space and silence in response. He'd been left on a bed, in horrid pain, sicker than a dog, when he'd been rescued.

Yet still. Something told him to chase that pain, because behind it laid the truth. He just needed to figure out if the truth was worth the pain.

"Sorry, Hagg---um.. Mother." He winced, his mouth tasting of acid whenever he referred to her as his mom. It was just wrong. It was poison. But Haggar was much more amiable when he did what she asked. Lance threw on a cheesy grin and a pair of finger guns to chase away the bad feels. "Can we start from the top again?"

\- - - 

Keith and Matt raced through the empty expanse of outer space. Matt was hurriedly navigating them a quick route to their destination from his console, as Keith expertly steered the ship. 

"According to the data I gathered from all the Galran radio chatter I've overheard, there is a large scale ship that last housed Haggar and her research lab. It's likely considered to be rogue now with Lotor on the throne, but if Haggar is still there?" Mat took a breath then looked to Keith, who wore a similar expression of hope. 

"Then we find Lance. Or at least clues to his whereabouts." Keith finished, his gaze fixed on his course, but his mind was racing with What Ifs. He looked over to Matt then, watching the other man monitor his incoming data. "Are you okay to be coming with me? I know this isn't exactly a Rebel Coalition priority right now."

Matt shook his head, his gaze fierce. "No. It is. Lance is a Paladin of Voltron. He's a hero. He deserves to be found." He breathed out a soft sigh, looking back out into space, "Not just cause he's a hero. He's a friend of my sister. And he's a living being that deserves to be saved no matter what. If that's not reason enough, I don't know what is."

Keith smiled, a small one that lasted only a moment. "Thank you, Matt." He turned back to face the front of the ship, searching the stars for traces of his lost teammate. 

"We'll find you, Lance. Just hold on."

\- - -

It took a few days, and a few tests, but the Evil-Druid-Magic-Detector was complete. Or EDMD for short. Hunk fashioned it into a subtle looking disc he could hide in his palm. Pidge was furious, as she'd gone to great lengths to design a large ray-gun that looked more like a super soaker. The idea was shot down fairly quickly, as this was a covert operation. Pidge mourned for her loss quietly.

Now all that was left to do was wait for it to alert them of high readings of druid influence. All three of them had small tablets on their person that would give them readouts and locations. They were excited. They were afraid.

When the three of them left to visit Allura as she worked on the Sincline ship, they thought for sure the readouts would be hindered by Altean alchemy. But it didn't even cause a single blip on their device. Was it working? Or was Altean Alchemy on a different level from druid magic? 

After some awkward conversation with Allura to mask their real reason for dropping in, the trio left to return to the Castle of Lions. "Let's say it's not one of us.." Hunk says as he fiddles with the device. "Maybe it's a bug in the castle's crystal? Or in the main hard drive for the castle systems?"

"Maybe.." Pidge murmured, still sour that they weren't using a Ray-Gun like they _should_ have been. Lance would have approved, she was certain. 

"What are you three up to?"

All three looked up as they entered the bridge to find Shiro, standing placidly at the centre of the room. All of the sudden, the device in Hunk's hand started to burn hot. The three of them felt their hearts seize. No, not Shiro. Not their leader. But readouts started flooding their tablets. It wasn't just Shiro's arm, which they knew had Galran tech. It was his whole body, aglow with purple on their charts.

"Uh..." Pidge stammered, looking up at the stern look upon Shiro's once calm face. She was suddenly terrified. If Shiro had been compromised, and if he found out that they knew, then Team Voltron was in deep trouble. 

\- - -

Haggar stood alone in a large room, dark with menacing emptiness. Lance was proving more and more difficult. She'd done all she could. She'd warped his memories, laced them with traps and bombs to keep him from poking around and untangling them. She'd treated him with kindness despite her predisposition to do otherwise. She'd given him food. A bed. A room to himself. What more did this spoiled little human want of her? All she asked for was his love. His devotion. His unwavering trust. But he kept questioning her. He kept doubting his place. And when left alone, he was always prodding at the firewalls she'd left in his brain, pushing and testing the waters of his threshold for pain.

If he continued to betray her trust... If he would not give in soon...

She walked to the centre of the room, and gazed down at a deep, dark well. Within was a large amount of water that ran down the centre of the whole ship. She'd created it on a whim as a means of torture. 

If Lance did not co-operate to her liking soon, he would be it's first occupant. 

"You have two choices, Paladin;" She murmured to herself while watching the deep, still and dark water below,

"Submit, or perish."

\- - -

"There it is.."

Keith looked out at the menacing looking battle cruiser floating in a strange array of asteroids and space debris. Himself and Matt had left their own vessel behind a well fortified formation of rocks, while the pair of them clung to the side of a smaller metal clump of space-junk. With Keith in his Marmoran uniform, and Matt in his Rebel Faction space suit, they were an odd duo to look upon indeed. But they were united in this front. They had to save Lance. 

"Just so we're clear, Keith? I'm not so great with spy stuff? I mean, I love spies. Watched a ton of movies about them. James Bond is the shiz, and all that.. Kingsmen was my jam." He rambled nervously, "But you've got a lot more experience in the _enter without being seen_... scene. If you can just escort me to some sort of small cubicle with access to the main systems? I can help you remotely."

"That was the plan." Keith murmured back through their radio, his eyes raking over the sides of the large cruiser ahead of them.

With nothing left to do, they used their jet packs to steer themselves toward the cruiser, curving under the ship's belly. Keith used his blade to cut a section out, and the pair entered the ship from there. 

\- - -

So Lance wasn't an expert at magic. He only had some semblance of an understanding from Haggar's notes and his own Curse hanging out inside his brain. He could feel it, sucking him dry of free will and free thought. When he poked at it, he felt a horrid wave of negative emotions overwhelm him until he was a sobbing mess on his pillow. 

Was this brain curse Haggar's doing? If so, then that knowledge plus the cage he lived in suggested she wasn't as benevolent as she made herself out to be. He was a prisoner. Maybe even an experiment.

 _I have to find my real family_ , he thought to himself.

So here he stood, in front of a glowing purple wall he knew was made to hurt him. He felt his bones tremble inside his body. He was afraid of the pain that would come. And he wasn't guaranteed to be strong enough to withstand it long enough to take it down. His hand shook even when he was just thinking about raising it up. A small voice in his head asked if freedom was even worth it?

_You're comfortable here, right?_

_It's warm. It's peaceful. It's safe. Haggar said if you behave you'll get your own private bathroom. If you behave, you'll be granted power. You'll have everything you could ever need._

_Just stop fighting._

Indeed, as Lance stepped away from the wall, the voices calmed down, and the pain and pressure eased. Haggar wanted him to give up. And that alone was reason to keep fighting.

With a deep breath in, Lance bade farewell to comfy pillows and home cooked meals. "Here goes everything!" He squeaked, and threw a punch into the purple wall.

Pain. 

Tearing apart his skin, burning through his veins, sending blades into the soft and vulnerable organs inside his body. His mind shrieked, memories thrashed, and his tongue swelled so badly he could not breathe. This was the worst. He felt fever flush his skin, and sweat lick his spine. But he held his fist in place, even as his bones and cartilage cracked apart where fist met magic. The voices became commands, demanding his surrender. 

_Submit or die. Submit or die._

"Neither.." He growled past a swollen throat, the effort making him gag. He pushed harder, embracing the poison memories and the shards of hatred lashing out at him from corrupted voices deep inside his brain. 

And then he felt it. A spark inside his brain that trickled through his nerves. A sense of control washed over him, and he clasped it like a weapon in his fist. With a strangled yell, he pushed that sensation into a force sent straight through the barrier's composition. It cracked, fracturing where his fist still pushed.

With a gasp, Lance collapsed, having depleted all his energy. He laid on the ground, feeling broken beyond repair. He'd only managed to crack the barrier. A small fissure that was sure to help if he hit it one more time. Maybe two. But he could barely breathe. He couldn't even lift a finger.

A series of calculated footsteps echoed outside the fuzzy remains of his hearing. 

"You continue to defy me." A hazy voice breathed like a fluttering of a curtain in summer before a storm, vague and wispy, a rippling memory too washed out to pull colour from. Lance tried to open his eyes, but they stung from the effort. 

"One more chance, Lance." Haggar sneered, leaning down and studying the injured teen before her. "Apologize to me, and dedicate your life to me and my legacy. Cease your rebellion. Become my son, and I will heal you. I will heal you, and teach you, and grant you powers you never thought possible. You will turn your back on this notion of freedom, and embrace me."

Lance spat at her feet from where he lay.

_"So be it."_

Lance felt something wash over him. A spell like a blanket of crackling darkness. He knew he was being moved, but the journey was hazy and his vision spotted at best. When he felt some of his senses and control come back to him, he was in a different room. It was dark, and there was a great dark abyss in the centre of it. It was similar to a well, but much too wide in circumference. Nearly ten to fifteen feet wide. He did not want to know how deep.

"I was kind you to, Lance. When no one else was." Haggar lamented, dragging him by the collar toward the centre of the room. Lance struggled, his sneakers squeaking against the smooth floors beneath him. 

"I know that's not true." Lance retorted, clinging to the minimal in tact memories he'd managed to scrounge up. He just had a sense that he was loved. Names and faces escaped him under Haggar's control, but that warm bubbly feeling in his heart was the one thing he refused to doubt.

"You're a fool." Haggar sneered, dropping the boy near the edge and kneeling before him. "Once last time, Lance. Truly the last time. Please, join me. Accept my love." She held out a hand, cold fingers caressing his temple. They felt good against his flushed skin, and it would have been so easy to let her win.

He took in a shaking breath, knowing his next words would seal his fate.

"Never."

Haggar snarled, grabbing Lance's jaw with her hand and holding him up above the deep, dark well. 

"I gave you everything." She growled, the boy's triumphant eyes insulting her just as her own son's often did. That defiance made her angry. It made her sick. "You owe me your love and loyalty, yet you still fight me." Always fighting her, rejecting her. Just like her own flesh and blood son. This boy. This insulant boy, from some infantile galaxy, had the audacity to spit upon her benevolence. 

Lance fought for purchase, his hands digging into her terrifyingly strong arm to ease the tension on his jaw. "I don't owe you anything." He growled back, "That's not how love works."

Haggar was done with this boy. It simply wasn't worth all of the effort she'd put into conditioning him, pampering him. He would not bend, but she bet her entire legacy he could _break_.

Haggar sent a shock of magic through Lance's body, making the boy lose his focus on her. With that, she let go, causing Lance to plummet several feet into the frigid water below. The shock of the cold water nearly made Lance breathe in too soon, his head still submerged. He frantically called upon enough energy to break the surface, his limbs and muscles stiff and shaking.

Haggar looked over the edge as he surfaced, the boy below sputtering and gasping for air.

"If you insist on fighting me, then you may die alone. I gave you a chance."

A lid shut tight overhead, cloaking the deep and sizeable well in complete darkness. Lance felt panic ripple through his body. He had no means of finding how deep this thing was, or any tunnels it may have, without risk of drowning. He swam to the edge of the cylinder he was in, keeping his back and palms to the sides. The water was uncomfortably cold, and his energy was draining. 

He hoped he could float in here long enough for someone to find him.

 _Oh crap..._ He thought with terror, knowing full well that there was barely an ice cube's chance in Hell anyone would find him down here. But he prayed, and he pleaded with the universe, 

_Please, someone find me._


	5. When Ashes Fall, The Legends Rise

This was bad. Even kind of hopeless. Nothing but his heart beat and his own panicked breathing for company, the boy from Cuba was staring imminent death in the face.

Lance did not want to rely on a rescue to get him out of here. The chances were slim anyone would find him on this ship, let alone in a sealed up well. He needed to come up with a Plan B.

"First of all..." He murmured aloud, the echo of his voice and splashing of water the only noise to speak of, "I don't know if I can even move that lid when I get up there.." He remembered it had sort of shirred shut, like motorized doors. Heck, it might just be the floor of the room he was in. "I can't swim down without a light to guide me. I have no idea how far it goes, and I can only hold my breath for like... Two? Maybe three minutes?" And if he remembered correctly, scaling the walls in a similar way he and Keith had in an elevator shaft was not possible here. The expanse around him was too wide. "Well... at least finally get a bath?"

He sighed and floated on his back, his right hand still swollen from his attack on the barrier prison. His muscles were still twitching from all the magic and electricity he'd felt course through him. He was in rough shape. All the more reason he needed an out. Now.

One thing he was thankful for? His far proximity from Haggar meant he could piece together his memories again. His life, his identity, started to slowly meld back together. One thing that haunted him was the knowledge of the curse still sitting happily in the centre of his brain.

"Right.. the Ah-mii- whatever." He grumbled to himself. How was he supposed to get rid of that? He could barely function with the team this whole time he'd been burdened with it. If he survived this, he really wanted a future where he could function like a normal human being again. Being emotionally oversensitive was draining, and tended to build a big fat wall between himself and his team. Besides that, he also hated the shame of feeling and seeming so weak and susceptible. He wanted to be capable, strong and tough.

Heck, may as well admit it. He wanted to be like Shiro. Maybe even Keith. Those two were men to look up to. They were... Hell, they were just amazing.

Lance sighed dejectedly, the stirred up water still lapping against his skin from his shifting. He could just imagine the amazing feats of physical prowess those two power houses would enact. He imagined they could get out of this mess on their own.

Lance stared into blackness, feeling outside his own body despite feeling every physical sensation around him. He hated this. It terrified him. He wanted to cry.

He would not cry.

"Oookaay Lance.." He sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm his trembling nerves. "Calm down. Remember what you did to the barrier.." Maybe he could tap into that weird connection inside his mind. Maybe he could push that strange energy out, once and for all. 

So he floated, and he meditated.

He almost felt at one with the water around him as it stilled. He dove deep into his own mind, feeling separate from all other things. He remembered some of the things Haggar had tried to teach him, that magic did not have to be innate for a species. Apparently she was a big fan of turning otherwise bland and simple species into other things. Hell, she'd even spilled about what Robeasts really were, and that had nearly made him puke.

He was so sick of feeling like an experiment. He wanted control back.

Finally, his mental meandering landed him where he needed to be. If he could grab that corrupted energy attached to his brain, harness it somehow, maybe he could eject it like he did two months ago? However long ago it was. It had only been semi successful then, but second times a charm, maybe.

He knew he was getting close when he felt his stomach twist in pain, when he felt a swell of emotions wash over him in drowning waves. It didn't help that he was already at risk of drowning, injured as he was in an endless well of water. Fever began to burn through his skin the closer his consciousness got to the core of the druid magic lodged in his brain. It was a physical thing that existed, tangible, real. He breathed in shallow, stuttering breaths through his nose, fighting off the very persistent desire to give up or give in. He knew that was its purpose; to dissuade him from accessing and shutting down this curse. So he did what any desperate survivor would do; he mentally grabbed at it with no hesitation.

Pain and power ripped through his veins, but when he opened his clenched eyes, he was met with flashing cracks of purple energy, crackling around his right hand. It lit up the entire expanse of the well, and he could see the edges of the seal above him. Maybe he could kill two birds with one stone here. Maybe he could expel all of the curse energy from his body for good, and even use it to crack open that seal.

With every ounce of strength and desperation within him, he screamed his throat raw as he drew out every last atom of Haggar's curse from his brain, all of it shooting down from his head through his bloodstream, and pooling in a ball of burning lightning like energy in his palm.

It was now or never. The curse was making the skin of his hand burn red. He hoped a rescue was on the way, because he was in dire need of a healing pod.

"Here goes nothing!!!" He screamed, punching his hand out above him. All of the gathered energy released, cracking wildly around him. Most of the energy dispersed against the walls uselessly, but a solid chunk of the seal above him cracked and fell apart, causing a loud explosion that nearly deafened Lance.

A new problem arose. 

Debris was raining down from the seal, and Lance had no where to run.

\- - - 

It was a silent stand-off on the Bridge. 

Shiro, with his eyes glowing purple, had his bayard pointed at Hunk. Hunk, the sweetheart, had his fingers to his mouth, panicking in horror. Pidge had her bayard pointed at Shiro, her eyes burning behind her lenses. Coran was sweating buckets so much one might think he had another case of the Slipperies.

That was the moment Allura and Lotor walked in. 

Allura gasped at the scene, Lotor looked perplexed. Shiro looked at Lotor, and his eyes burned brighter, his face contorting with purpose. Lotor took a moment to take in what he was seeing, and a sudden chill in his gut told him he recognized the look in Shiro's eyes. Or rather, the aura they gave off.

"What is going on in here!?" Allura demanded, fuming at the state of her paladins.

"Stay back, Allura." Lotor demanded, stepping in front of the Princess, and taking out his weapon. Despite Pidge pointing a weapon at Shiro too, she balked at the nerve of the Emperor to threaten her leader. 

The heated tension in the room was stifling. 

"Lotor! What is going on? Someone explain themselves, now!" Allura was furious, but she was also unnerved. Scared for the well being of all present, and of the team's dynamic failing at such a crucial time. 

"Your leader has the same aura that Narti had. He's clearly under the control of the witch."

Everyone's breath left their lungs. 

_Haggar._

The witch who'd cursed Lance. The one who may have kidnapped him. And Shiro must be the spy who'd led the woman straight to him. It all clicked. It all made sense.

And it broke their hearts.

Shiro had been a little off and weird since being found in space, but there had been so many wonderful moments too. Surely it had been just stress of his position. But maybe it was Haggar all that time.

Shiro's gaze narrowed. After a pause, any struggle within him seemed to be gone. In a low, gravelly voice, he commanded; "Lotor, lower your weapon. You're coming with me."

"Wait, what? Shiro--" Hunk stammered, "What is going on?" Hunk still felt the heated pulsing of the device in his palm, and his bracer beeped loudly with data he refused to look at.

"He must be killed." Lotor growled, ready to strike, "It's the only way!"

Before he could move, Allura flipped him behind her. Shiro took the sudden movement as a chance to strike, butting the handle of his weapon into Hunk's gut. He then dodged Pidge's strike, and dove for Lotor.

He was held back by a glowing blue chain of a whip wrapped tightly over his upper arm. Allura's strength was formidable, earning a growl from the overtaken paladin. "Coran!" She yelled, snapping the advisor from his stupor. He fumbled with a device he grabbed from who knows where, shooting it at Shiro. It was some alien form of a taser.

The man collapsed without much ceremony. 

A pregnant silence followed.

Shiro was down. Lotor was rubbing his back where he'd landed. Hunk grumbled as he rubbed his stomach. 

"Okay.." Pidge huffed, running a hand through short, floppy hair. " _Now_ what?"

What indeed? The crew split off for a few moments to collect themselves, and deal with the new "issue" that now lay on the floor. After a varga, they reconvened on the bridge.

"Now more than ever, we _need_ to find Lance." Allura demanded, staring down at Lotor. The seated man was surrounded by paladins, sans Shiro. The leader of Voltron was currently sealed in a sleep tank for safe keeping.

"Princess.." Lotor tried to plea, but she held up a hand, "No. No more Sincline ship until my crew is back on board, all of them, healthy and in control of their own minds." She scowled, having been brought down from her puppy love high thanks to current events. "I should have insisted on this from the moment Lance was taken." She muttered this to herself, the guilt and blame heavy on her shoulders. She'd gotten side tracked thanks to Lotor's project. He had a tendency to say things she wanted to hear, and she fell for every line.

Pidge stepped forward then, arms crossed as she leered at Lotor. Even sitting, Lotor was only just nearly eye level with the smallest paladin. "You said you had the better part of your people looking for Lance. Time to make that number closer to 100%. Your witch took our friend, and took over our leader. Voltron has been severely compromised. I have half a mind to pin all this on you." 

Lotor breathed a sigh. He wasn't physically tied down here, but he may as well be chained by their stern gazes. "I understand your discord, but I must protest. My loyalty lies with my people. They come before all else. I can't give you all of my resources, especially with the universe in such chaos."

He had little sympathy from most of the crew present.

"Then no Sincline ships." Allura said plainly, "Unless you have some other way to help us, I will not aid you with Altean Alchemy any longer."

Lotor look dismayed. "I have little means of finding Haggar. She'd been exiled since my reign began. Please, Princess. Reconsider."

"More like you just don't want to find her." Hunk growled, broad shoulders hunched in anger. 

"Wait just a tick, everyone!" Coran piped up, drawing the attention of the whole room. "If we could have Lotor's cooperation, along with the scientific wing of his palace.. I think we could use Shiro as a means of reverse tracking druid magic."

Pidge hummed, cocking her hip as she crossed her arms in thought. "That's true. The readouts of Shiro's magic scans were really strong. Using him, plus the short range scanner we made that found him out to begin with? We might be able to make something on a bigger scale."

"Yeah!" Hunk snapped his fingers, "And with Lotor's main hub data? We'd have a much more detailed map of universal ship activity. Even out of commission ships, right? Like... Haggar's ship, even if it's AWOL? It might be on longer range scans."

Lotor pursed his lips, tapping his claws on the arm rest. "Yes, perceivably." He seemed to dwell on this, his mind clinging to his own desires feverishly. Finally, something seemed to give. "Very well." He breathed out, hoisting himself from the chair he'd been cornered in. "Come then. We have work to do."

\- - -  
Keith and Matt froze from their crouched position in an abandoned control room. A loud boom had been heard just now, and as Matt curiously searched for energy readings on the computer, he found the source.

"It came from the centre of the ship. It's the same area that I think the druid labs are in." Matt frantically collected the data onto a small device in his armour. "Keith, let's go."

Deciding not to let Matt stand around by himself in a control room now that security was compromised, the pair left together to find Lance. They hoped this explosion of energy didn't mean they were too late.

Keith and Matt took down several sentries and drones before anyone noticed they were on board. So far they'd gone all this time undetected, but their luck would not last with this big explosion. Surely security would investigate. They just needed to beat them there.

The pair made it to a large room the size of a gymnasium. In the centre was a wide well, with a hole punched through it. Purple energy was still crackling at its edges. Keith jogged to the edge and looked down, shining a light from his arm bracer. 

"There's a lot of water down here. What the heck caused that big ex---"

His heart dropped. Someone was floating down there. Someone with brown hair, tan skin, and a nasty looking cut on their head.

"LANCE!"

Keith dove in, without a second thought to his own safety. Matt screamed, staggering after him but stopping himself at the edge of the well. "Keith! You idiot! Be careful!"

A large splash as Keith hit the cold water, the shock of it barely registering. He surfaced and looked frantically for Lance, hoping he hadn't dislodged him from whatever had kept the other boy afloat. "Lance?!" He panted, his heart beating so rapidly in his chest he felt he might die. But there was Lance, starting to skin into the water.

Keith dove the last few feet toward him, gripping Lance under his arms and hauling him over his shoulder. It was easy to do in the water, and Lance himself seemed a mite thinner than normal. 

"Keith!" Matt yelled from above. "Hurry! We got incoming!"

Keith cursed, kicking off of the wall and using his thrusters to bounce from one wall to another. Thank goodness these things worked around water. Galra tech was so much more life saving then Earth technology.

Keith emerged with Lance, climbing out of the well with Matt's help. They didn't have time to check his vitals, as soldiers swarmed the place. _Shit._ Keith was livid. He was so close to getting Lance and Matt out of here. Lance's body felt overly hot for someone who'd spent who knows how long in a freezing cold well. Fever? Fever meant alive, and not dead, so he'd take it for now. He wasn't able to check his pulse or breathing with guns pointed at them.

The soldiers didn't shoot yet, thank goodness, but that just meant the big guns were right around the corner. Either commanders, or druids. "We need an out.." Breathed Keith, his voice wavering. Matt hummed in response, his amber eyes darting between soldiers and walls, trying to think of a plan.

"Well well..." A husky voice echoed, and in a flash of purple energy, Haggar appeared before them. Yellow eyes glowed menacingly from beneath the shade of a large hood. The air seemed to get colder as a result of her company. "He's even more powerful than I could have hoped for." She said with a sneer. 

"Hand him over. Or my soldiers will kill all three of you."


	6. The Ruins of Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mighty force falls.
> 
> A team in shambles.
> 
> Fate derails.

Keith would never hand Lance over. He wasn't a fan of getting him killed either though. He looked to Matt, who was giving him a worried but resolved expression. Yeah, Matt would never just give Lance back to his captors. 

"Why do you want him so badly?" Keith growled, holding Lance tighter to himself. He had the other boy in a fireman's carry, but he was worried all the blood rushing to the Cuban's brain might cause more damage to the already existing catastrophe that was the grey matter of Lance McClain. 

Haggar sneered. "His mind is both stubborn yet often pliable, if using the right methods. It reacts well to my magic because he is so soft at heart. He could become my greatest weapon, or my most treasured possession, if he would only submit. I worked hard on him, and now that I see how powerful he can be with the right push? I want him back."

"Bull!" Matt roared, readying his long staff for combat. "Who leaves someone precious trapped in a well?!" Matt hadn't seen how or why Lance was down there, but it was obvious it would not have been of his own volition. 

"And he is not your possession." Keith added with a sick feeling clawing in his gut. Whatever perverted fascination the witch had with Lance, it was riling every nerve in his body. Lance wasn't her little toy. Lance was a bright eyed, pea-brained moron that deserved his freedom. He deserved to be cherished and loved, not used like some wretched experiment.

"So death it is then? Fine. I'll kill all of you and simply make a clone of that boy from the DNA and memory I've already harvested." That information alone made their stomachs sink. The sadistic and frightening magic crackling around her arms made it worse. Guns all around them were powering up with a mechanic whine. There was no way out.

As Keith and Matt braced for pain, a sudden deafening noise exploded through the room. The floor shook, and gravity seemed to be wavering, making everyone stumble for purchase. 

Metal tearing echo'd from somewhere nearby, perhaps a few rooms over. Sounds of heavy fire. Yelling.

It was enough of a distraction that Keith noticed Haggar wasn't looking at them.

Taking his chance (they all might die anyway so why the heck not), Keith grabbed his blade and hurled it at the witch.

The elongated weapon made a sickening short sound, piercing into Haggar's back. She screamed in a choked voice that sounded wet. The druids around her stood back. The sentries stood by. 

And then the door blew open.

Hunk bounded in, blasts from his gatling gun showering the sentries in a rain of bullets. Pidge swooped in moments later, finding Matt almost right away and helping him fend off attacks that came to close to Keith and Lance.

"Is Lance okay?" Pidge asked as she used her grappling hook to lasso a large group of sentries. They succumbed to a sudden shock of electricity from her bayard. 

"We don't know," Matt grunted, twirling his staff and knocking the heads off of many bots within range. "Keith? How is he?"

Keith's blade was currently buried deep into the back of Haggar's (hopefully) corpse. Saddled with carrying Lance, his options in combat were restricted to 'don't get hit'. So he kneeled down, sliding Lance off his shoulder. He was surprised to find him awake, groaning as he leaned against Keith's chest. 

"Woah, Lance. You up, man?" Keith asked, bewildered. Lance grunted in response, his blue eyes looking a little glassy and far off.

"Headache. Everything hurts. World's on fire." He rasped with a throat that sounded like it had been stripped bare. "What's happening?"

"Guys? He's alive, but he needs a pod. Can we get out of here, now?" Keith asked the small gathering around him.

Hunk had decimated a large amount of the sentries, but now he was backing up toward their group. "Guuuys what happened to the druids? I don't see them!"

"They must have fled when Haggar went down." Keith grunted, lifting Lance up again. Hunk turned with a squeak when he saw Lance's eyes open, abandoning his attack to rush to his side. 

"Lance! Keith, give him here." Hunk practically made grabby hands for him as Keith eased Lance away from himself and into Hunk's care. This worked out, Keith thought. He rushed through sentries once Lance was in stronger arms, pulling his blade free from Haggar's back. He sincerely hoped she was dead and gone. They needed to leave right away.

"C'mon guys! Ignore the rest. Let's just get out of here!"

\- - -

Lance had been awake for most of his rescue. He remembered Keith pulling him from the water, and the nauseating ascent from the depths to the top of the well. Bouncing off walls had made his head spin and his empty stomach churn. Then the dumb Blade member had him practically upside down, making his head swim even more. Voices were murky, indistinguishable sounds spinning on a rinse cycle. His hand felt numb, his head was splitting and throbbing, his bones felt mushy. And it was really hot for some reason. He spent an hour in a cold dark well, and for some reason his body responded with making aa fire in his bloodstream.

By the time shit hit the fan, he was barely lucid. He only managed to answer Keith in a rare moment of clarity. He could barely even see the guy, his vision swimming in spots of white and black.

It wasn't until the jostling of the chaotic ship was far behind him, replaced with the steady hum of a Lion of Voltron, that he could feel himself stabilize. 

Lance opened his eyes, his body pressed against the hard surface of Paladin armour. Hunk. He was with Hunk, who looked to be piloting Yellow with a look of frantic determination.

No way. No way, was... was he finally going back to the castle? He'd been with Haggar in that weird pen she'd built for him, that he barely remembered what it was like not to live as a pet. His memories might be more damaged than he thought. This hardly seemed real. The rush from being rescued, to this moment now. It was off balance and sudden. He didn't know how to process it.

"Hunk." Lance breathed out, relief relaxing the tension in his sore limbs. Hunk started at this, looking down from the screens ahead.

"Lance! Oh Jeez. Are you okay? We've been so worried. I missed you so much. You look feverish. Do you feel feverish? Also, what the heck happened? Your hand looks awful! And your head is bleeding like crazy--OH NO I bet you have a concussion. Don't sleep Lance!!" Hunk's panicked worrying made Lance snort, laughter bubbling in his aching body. Hunk's worrying, his care for his well being, made the boy's heart swell with warmth.

"Lance! Don't laugh, I'm serious!" Hunk pleaded, trying to fly and pay attention to Lance at the same time. Lance just smiled, awkwardly patting the chest plate of Hunk's armour with an injured hand. 

"There there, buddy. S'alright. I'll live." He rasped, his own voice barely recognizable to him. "What happened to Haggar? The ship?" These concerns hit him suddenly, the prospect of having all this happen again, with Haggar's strange and terrifying obsession with his brain giving him a horrendous bout of anxiety.

"She's gone. That whole ship is. Keith and Matt blasted it to pieces. They even wanted to send the scrap metal into a nearby sun."

Lance laughed a little at that, "They should've.."

Over... it was over? All of it? He could find normalcy again. He could hug his team. Sleep in his own bed. Feel the warmth of company, of family, all around him. Maybe fly Red again. Do some space-wheelies. Haggar was dead, which meant that curse could be gone for good, if he hadn't depleted every ounce of it from his mind. He sure hoped so. He felt... at peace with that. Tired... heavy...

His eyelids drooped low.

"Lance?" Hunk looked down, finding Lance's eyes closed, his limbs slack over his lap. "Lance! No no no! Please! Lance, wake up!"

\- - -

Tension was high in the med bay. The gathered team looked on at the two individuals before them in the pods. Lance, battered, bruised and a little bit thinner, was quietly healing. Then there was Shiro, stern and still, trapped in stasis until the team could decide what the next step was.

"What do we do about Shiro?" Pidge asked softly, staring up at the man they'd come to admire and respect. "Haggar is gone, as far as we know. So.. will he go back to normal?"

The team looked to Lotor, who was staring up at the pair with scientific interest as opposed to concern. The Black and Blue paladins were allies, but not precisely friends of his. Their well being only effected him on a political level, and not a personal one. "He should revert to normal. The witch's hold on him would be severed due to her death, if that is indeed the case. There would be no reason for him to be under anyone's control now."

Pidge worried about the numbers her data had given her. How much of Shiro's body had been the product of Haggar's influence. It was almost as if this Shiro was 100% factory made with Druid Magic. It left a heavy feeling in her gut. She instead focused now on Lance, his prone form peaceful despite the various injuries.

Haggar may be gone, but the damage was certainly done. Their team's dynamic had been broken by discord thanks to Shiro's behaviour and Lance's ailment. It would take time to heal it of it's wounds. How would Lance react when he woke? Would he and Shiro have issues with trust? Would Shiro even be himself?

"Game plan, guys." Hunk announced, clapping his hands. "When they wake up, we need a serious team bonding spa day to fix our relationships. Actually, we need to completely overhaul how we handle each other on a daily basis. Especially with Lance." Pidge nodded whole heartedly. Allura seemed confused.

"What do you mean? Why specifically Lance? Is our relationship with him sub-par?" She asked with concern, large blue eyes wide and brows knitted. "He always seems quite lively and friendly with everyone. If maybe a little over dramatic at times. I was unaware there was any hostility concerning him."

Hunk and Pidge shared a look. It was awful to confirm that Allura had no idea of the strained dynamic in the group for the last two months. She had been very preoccupied, lately. Did she not know of his relapse? A relapse that occurred because they'd all fallen back on old habits? Coran cleared his throat. "Well, Princess..." Coran fought to think of the best way to break it to her that her infatuation with Lotor and his rather self satisfying endeavours had alienated the crew... With Lotor still in the room.

Himself, as well as Hunk and Pidge, gave the man a withering stare. Lotor blinked, looking nearly innocent and oblivious. "What?" He inquired in a quiet voice. Allura sighed, "I think the conversation might be a bit personal in how it pertains to us and Lance. Lotor, if you could give us some privacy?"

Lotor furrowed his brow. He wasn't keen to have this dilly dallying getting in the way of more important things, yet...

"Very well. I have many duties to attend to, as it were. If you'll excuse me." The Prince gave a small nod, and calmly walked out of the infirmary.

The team felt some of the pressure leave them with one less pair of eyes and ears snooping around. Coran motioned them all to sit down as a table and chairs raised from the floor. The wonders of Altean magic mixing with technology made Pidge squeak in delight. If only they weren't hunkering down to air out their dirty laundry, then she could fawn over the technology as much as she desired.

"Right," Coran said with a huff as he settled in. "Where shall I begin?"

\- - -

While Lance was in the pod, his torn up mind began to mend. 

The healing magic of the Altean tech breathed through his body, finding all of the figurative frayed edges and cut wires. All damage endured thanks to Haggar's reckless tinkering. Memories were warped. The chronology of his time in space and on Earth all messed up. His relationship, those were damaged the most. But whether from natural circumstances or Haggar's magic, that remained to be seen.

How he felt about his team. How he felt about himself. All of it was being analyzed based on the last few times he'd been in a pod; comparing a healed Lance with current Lance.

He saw Hunk behind his eyelids. The boy he'd met in the Garrison, soft, warm and so bright. His friend. Hanging off his shoulder, leaning on him for support. Hugs that rivalled his mothers. Easy company. A guy he could make laugh, or groan. His friend. Hunk was his best friend. But he also felt sad about Hunk. The same boy capable of such gentle love also seemed completely unaware of Lance's fragile heart. He teased him over things Lance took seriously, and maybe that was payback for all the times Lance got him in trouble back home. And maybe Lance had to stop hiding his tears from his bigger friend, if he ever wanted to get comfort for his lonely heart. Maybe it was Lance's fault Hunk didn't see the pain. Maybe Lance should have been open and honest, instead of putting up a front of confidence and arrogance.

Then Pidge came to mind. The strained attempts to befriend them before he even knew she was a girl. Their life on the ship continuing, he saw her as a fun and spirited sibling. Running around a mall, looking desperately for spare change together to buy a video game. Late nights playing said game, stretching past midnight with chip crumbs on the floor, forgotten face masks on the bathroom counter. Losing to her at said game every time they played. He felt a little jealous of how smart she was, and how much the team respected her, turned to her for all their needs. He wished people would brag about him the way they do about her. Wished they relied on his expertise like they did with her. But even with all than that envy in his heart, he was proud and touched that she considered him a friend. At least, he hoped she did.

Shiro. A man he loved and respected. A man he nearly wanted to become. He'd been kind, supportive. But then he'd stopped. Soon he felt pushed away. Worse, he felt belittled. Shiro's once shining figure now cast a heavy shadow over Lance. Maybe... maybe Lance wasn't worthy of Shiro's attention. Maybe Shiro saw nothing in the Blue Paladin worth caring for, after all. Maybe he had at one point, but became disappointed when Lance turned out to be a fake. Not a fighter pilot, but a dumb student who barely managed to make it on par. Disappointment. It made him feel so small. After all the time Shiro had been there for him before the curse, even during some of it? All that kindness seemed so far away; a mockery. Lance felt ashamed, humiliated. He could never look Shiro in the eye.

And Allura... Allura saw him as a mouthy child. A child who boasted falsities, flirted with her as if she were just some random girl on the street. No wonder she sneered. No wonder she fawned over Lotor, who treated her like the true goddess she was. She was a Princess. Powerful, magical. A brave and capable warrior and leader. A portrait of Allura's bright smile filled his mind, but it was soon replaced with her looking up at Lotor with a dazed warmth. A warmth he ached to be pointed at himself instead. His heart fell. No one would _ever_ look at him that way. Especially not a Princess.

Keith flitted across his mind. Their old rivalry, one sided thanks to Lance. Then the slow hesitant bond they'd started to create between them, before Keith left them. His mind gave him a grainy, flickering image of the man rescuing him from Haggar. Words murmured across his mind. Declarations of protecting him... Keith's image was hard to grasp at, after spending so long away from him.

His family washed over many of these insecurities with memories of home. Long dinners filled with laughter. Warm cuddle sessions by the flickering TV screen on a dark Saturday night. Older siblings either teasing him, or coddling him; rough housing on the lawn, and teaming together to beg for a pet. His parents, his aunts, his grandparents. People who's faces lit up with fond familiarity when they looked upon him entering a room. Always happy to see him.

And then there it was, as he finally faced the part of his brain that had been cursed. The very centre, scarred in purple bruises. 

It was empty there. No traces of the curse remaining, but it's scars ran deep. It had amplified all the doubts and worries he lived with daily, and burned them into his very soul. 

Maybe there were some things he would never heal from.

Lance felt despair. He'd been freed from Haggar's influence. She'd been killed. He'd been rescued. But this painful lump in his heart remained. Maybe this was just who he was all along. After all, it only fed on those emotions and doubts. Made them stronger than normal. But all this? This was the real Lance. A boy with dreams of glory, pulling on puffed up personas to try and get the world to see him the way he wanted to be seen. A boy who hid every worry and insecurity under layers of a false ego, gloating and flirting. 

Lance lived a lie. His whole facade, every fibre of it, was crumbling. He'd almost believed in his own bullshit. Almost believed he was a sharp shooting, hot shot pilot who could woo all the ladies in the galaxy. What a load of bull. He was nothing but a flesh-suit of doubt and insecurity.

As the pod continued to heal his fractured body from the trauma of his stay on the Druid Ship, Lance fell deeper into the heavy torment of his own mind.

All this time, Haggar hadn't been his worst nightmare. He could manage that all on his own.

\- - -

"Start from the beginning." Allura suggested, folding her hands neatly on her lap. "I understand that Lance had difficulty with his emotions because of Haggar. But I assumed he had a handle on it."

Coran frowned. "Well.. he certainly tried. He made a great and valiant effort to remain strong through it. Actually, the two of us actually created a routine to help! He introduced me to something called Yoga, and we would bond and chat and distract him from overthinking, since overthinking made the curse stronger, you see."

Hunk nodded to this, his gaze dropping to the table. "Yeah, he mentioned teaching you yoga. I didn't know he went to you so often though. That he was relapsing as bad as he was." 

Pidge sighed, leaning back in her seat. "He's so good at plastering on a smile. It was easy to go back to teasing him, and leaving him to his own devices. But, I'm thinking we have alienated him a lot more once Lotor got here."

Allura perked up at that. "Lotor?" She asked doubtfully.

"Yes.." Coran nodded, "His insistence on focusing all our efforts on helping him ascend to the throne, and improve the empire and his own personal ships.. and then Shiro being rather harsh on Lance whenever the lad spoke up against it. It split the team's usual dynamic apart."

Allura was slowly putting it all together, lips pursed in thought. "I fail to see how this effects Lance."

A collective sigh. Allura's obliviousness to the situation was almost cute. But it also painted a picture of how little she paid attention to their lanky paladin. Lance would be heartbroken. 

"He had nowhere to go, Allura. With Shiro dismissing him on all his opinions, and you and Lotor so focused on those ships?" Hunk murmured. "Me and Pidge kept doing our own thing, and Lance hung around us anyway but didn't really have input on that kind of stuff, yanno? It's like trying to fit in but no one sees you. So, think about it. Where would Lance go to feel like he was part of the team, or if he needed a friend? Where would he go to feel.. I dunno... like he belonged? To feel comforted?"

A silent moment passed, and Allura seemed to grasp the situation. 

"Oh dear.. with his compromised hold on his emotional limits.. plus feeling slightly alienated from the team. Are you saying we each managed to push his illness to relapse?"

Hunk nodded. "Even without the curse, I think all of this would have hurt him a lot, Allura. None of us meant any harm. Defending the universe has sacrifices, and we all know that. It was all poor timing and circumstances being as they were. But I think Haggar knew all this through Shiro's role as a spy. It's impossible to know how much of it all was orchestrated, and how much was our own fault."

Allura seemed sympathetic, but also wary. "We were all rightfully busy, though. Surely Lance understood we can't drop what we're doing for him."

Pidge shook her head, leaning toward Allura with urgency. "Of course he knew. Why do you think he never said anything?"

Oh.

_Oh._

He never said anything. That made it worse, keeping it all bottled up. The team, and Lance. All of them were to blame. A horrible tangle of miscommunication and dire circumstances and responsibilities, leading to a near downfall of the mighty Voltron. They all sabotaged their own dynamic.

It was like some shitty space opera.

A lot of silence passed between them, internalizing their doubts and worries. Coran breathed in, looking up at Shiro's pod. "I wonder how much of all this Shiro will remember?"

Allura furrowed her brows, looking up at the Black Paladin. "We may need to have this talk with him as well. It's imperative we learn how all of this has effected Shiro, before we can move on." 

As a team, they collectively decided to open the pod containing their leader. 

\- - -

Keith and Matt watched as Lotor boarded a small vessel, and made his way off of the Castle of Lions. The odd pair sat in the hanger, having taken a while to contact their own organizations. After all, they'd both been on a rather interesting mission set apart from their usual daily grind. It would soon be time to head back, but Team Voltron weighed heavily on their minds.

"Worried about him?" Matt asked, nudging Keith's shoulder. The former paladin gave Matt a sulking glare in response. "Huh? Worried about who?"

The blonde rolled his eyes. "Lance? Though, I guess Shiro too. Actually, _I'm_ worried about Shiro. They said he went crazy.."

Keith's gut twisted. Lance was hurt in more ways than one, and Shiro, his Shiro, had been a big reason for it. There was no telling how things would play out now. His old team was in shambles these last few months. A part of him wished he'd never left. A part of him really wanted to come back. But...

With an impatient huff, he clapped Matt on the shoulder. "I'll stick around and keep an eye on things. Why you don't you head back to the coalition?" Matt gave Keith a relieved smile. "Thanks, man. Tell Pidge bye for me. And tell her to wash her damn hair!" He yelled as he jogged away, heading back to his own pod.

Keith smirked, waiting until Matt was flying through space before he made his way out of the hanger. The atmosphere inside the castle was stifling, filled with anxiety and a looming pressure of dread. 

The witch was dead, the curse was beaten, but the aftermath had just begun.


	7. The Impossible Cure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro learns something devastating. 
> 
> Keith and Shiro have a moment.
> 
> Lance wakes up.

Keith walked into the infirmary just as Shiro was stepping out of a pod. He seemed out of it, woozy. Hunk helped him walk to the table that had been set up nearby. "What happened?" Shiro slurred, clumsily settling into a chair. 

"How much do you remember?" Keith asked, surprising those around him with his sudden presence. He walked fluidly towards the group, taking a seat of his on as the other did. Keith worried himself sick as he looked upon his brother. He seemed so... different. Older. It looked like some of his hair was beginning to match the white tuft of his bangs. Everything the man had been through these last couple years was taking a physical toll.

"Keith?" Shiro murmured, staring at the Blade member across from him. Blade... wait what? Why was...

"Shiro. How much do you remember?" Keith repeated with urgency, his legendary patience as thin as ever.

"I.. remember we were attacking Zarkon.. Then it all went dark. Was I hurt? Did we win?"

It took too long for them to realize what his words meant. The silence becoming heavier, thicker, suffocating. It was hard to breathe through the dread in their chests. Shiro, the one they'd been living and working with since his second return? Had he been controlled by Haggar the whole time? If not entirely, then how much of that Shiro had been genuine? Perhaps the shock of that druid magic leaving him had simply imploded his memories.

"What? What's wrong?" Shiro asked, bewildered as he took in the haunted faces looking down, avoiding his gaze. "Was.. how long was I out?"

Hunk inhaled sharply, trying to muster the courage to break the news. Allura beat him to the punch. 

"It's a long story, Shiro. Are you well enough to hear it?"

Shiro's brows furrowed, and he glanced to the side at a pod housing a bruised and fatigued Lance. "I... I guess? Hey, is Lance okay? What happened to him?" He took in Keith's attire next, similar to the Blades uniform. Why was he wearing it? He had so many question, but he had a feeling he was about to find answers to many of them.

Allura breathed carefully, reaching out and clasping the man's hand. 

"Let's start with the day you disappeared."

\- - -

Lance felt cold. He heard a quiet hissing, and a breath of frost floating around him softly. Whatever had been holding him up gave way, leaving his knees wobbly and his body slow to respond. His eyes opened as he reached out to brace himself on the edge of the pod. Ah.. a pod? His memory was fuzzy with sleep, and he struggled to regain his grip on the world. 

"Lance?" A voice murmured, and then a hand reaching out to steady him as Lance started to move away from the pod. Lance blinked, trying to work the fuzzy tiredness out of his eyesight. When he managed to get some semblance of sight back, he saw the one helping him was Hunk.

Lance stared up at warm brown eyes, and a round, kind face. It was taking him way too long to feel excited about this reuinion. Maybe Haggar did a lot more lasting damage than he'd thought. It made him feel terrible. His feelings for his friends were in shambles. For how long would they be ruined by false memories and exaggerated grudges? Not to mention the distance between them that had existed previous to his kidnapping. All of it felt broken beyond repair. 

Lance felt guilt bore into his gut. He knew his feelings were wrong. But...

"Hey Hunk.." Lance managed to mumble, patting the boy on the shoulder. He was finally home, yet all he wanted to do was get into his jammies and hide in his room. Well, to be fair, he did remember the healing pod wasn't a substitute for sleep or nutrition. Just fast paced healing. He probably really needed the sleep. Maybe he'd feel better about Hunk when he woke up.

Lance started to walk away.

"Lance? You.. you feeling okay?" Lance stopped, looking back at Hunk, who looked desperately worried. 

"Huh?"

Hunk's frown deepened. "You seem... despondent? I mean.. I know you were prisoner for a long, long time. So you won't be yourself right away. I get that... but uh.. If you wanna talk?" He smiled then, hopeful, careful. 

Lance only felt a small pang of obligation to appease Hunk's worry, but the rest of him felt tired and heavy; world weary. 

"Oh." He managed to respond, feeling a bit dimwitted as a result. "Maybe later." Lance couldn't even smile. He turned, dragging his feet out of the infirmary. He wanted out of this silly pod suit, and into his own clothes. Clothes that were clean. That he hadn't been forced to wear for weeks on end. To think, he'd almost believed Haggar had taken good care of him.

She'd tricked him. She'd made him believe...

Made him believe he was welcome. That he had a place by her side, even if he'd never wanted to be. But thinking back on his conditions, it was always clear he was just a prisoner, a pet, an experiment. He'd fought against her, but with every passing day, he'd often slip. Slip into thinking that maybe she saw something in him worth while.

What a joke.

\- - -

Hunk felt devastated. 

As he watched the husk of his best friend walk away from him, it felt like he'd lost a piece of his own life. Something in Lance was wrong. Broken. Hunk hoped beyond hope that it wasn't impossible to fix it. Hunk could fix cars, ships, and a mean batch of cookies. But a heart? A soul? Maybe he could. He believed he had a good chance. That was his best frend walking away from him looking like he was dead inside. While he was willing to give his lanky friend a day to himself, a day to settle and digest his rescue.. Hunk knew he'd need to work extra hard to make Lance feel loved again.

If only he knew what Haggar had done. But asking was out of the question.

"Oh maan.." Hunk groaned, running a hand over his head, "I miss goofball Lance. He was so much easier to please." With a great sigh, he moved from the infirmary towards the bridge. He'd tell the others about Lance. After that? He needed to plan a meal for his best friend, full of hearty nutrition and delightful tastes. Something to heal his tummy, and nurse his heart.

"Lance is awake." Hunk announced when he walked onto the bridge. A handful of the crew was there, and they turned when they heard his voice.

"You don't sound excited." Allura mused, light brows lifting in surprise. "Is something the matter?"

"Yeah." Hunk huffed and plopped down into his chair, sulking as he slid down into a slouched position. "Lance doesn't seem very Lance-ish. He looked...." He bit his lip, trying to picture the tired and disinterested look that had been painted on his tanned face. "He just looked done. Yanno? He barely even smiled when he saw me."

Allura nodded. "We are talking about the long term manipulation of his brain and emotions. I imagine he won't be fully well for a long time. The pods can only heal physical wounds, not mental ones." She moved towards Hunk, seating herself primly on the arm of his chair. This made Hunk slide back up into a more proper seating position. After all, Allura was a Princess, okay? Best to give it his all in etiquette or whatever.

"How's Shiro?" Hunk asked Keith, who was staring out at the abyss of space. 

"He's.. dealing with it." Keith murmured, brows furrowing in worry. "But he tends to keep his own issues bottled up for the sake of the team. I'm a bit worried. Pidge said she was looking into why he lost so much of his memory, right?"

"Yes." Allura confirmed, "With Coran. They've set up a small lab specifically for the task. Shiro has been very forthcoming in aiding them when he can. But you're right. He does seem... tense."

Keith sighed heavily, turning and leaning his weight against the main console. "He's been through enough. It isn't fair." He said almost to himself, his shoulders tense. 

"Nothing about war is fair." Allura added gently, despite her blood boiling over all the sacrifices it had taken to get to this point. Her planet, her people. Her parents. Nothing was fair, all because a power hungry Emperor had decided his race of people deserved the universe more than those he shared it with. And while they had taken down a large amount of the Galra's power, it barely felt like enough.

Nothing was fair. It was so impossibly sad how helpless it made her feel sometimes.

The air was tense. Suffocating. They'd rescued Lance, but it cost him his inner fire. Defeated Haggar, but lost half of Shiro's memories from their time in space. It was hard to tell if any of it was a fair trade, or if there were ever alternatives that would yield a better end.

"So... Lance. Is he by himself?" Keith asked, curiosity laced with the overhanging tension.

"Yeah. He didn't really want company. I think he's tired." Hunk murmured, slouching again despite Allura's continued presence on the arm of his chair. "He'll probably end up sleeping a while, I guess?"

Allura gave a half shrug. "Probably. Lotor and the Coalition have been handling the maintenance of the universe. The Blades are keeping an eye on things underneath the surface. Voltron can afford the break for now. I suggest we take full advantage of our well deserved spare time. For Lance and Shiro to heal, and also for all of you. You've worked hard for this moment of Peace. Spend it healing yourselves, as well as our ailing team members. You've earned every tick of this reprieve."

Hunk and Keith both smiled fondly, nodding in affirmation. 

"You're a good leader, Allura." Hunk said softly, patting her hand with a fond smile. Allura smiled back with grand appreciation, her cheeks dusting in a proud pink. 

"Thank you, Hunk."

\- - -

Shiro sat in the darkness of his bedroom. His heart felt small and bullied, barely pumping enough blood to keep his body warm. His muscles felt stiff and numb. 

How could he have lost another year of his life? It was horrifying. His hands trembled, his heart shrivelled. He felt helpless. He felt like a failure.

All of the information given to him by his team left him feeling off kilter. Hearing these stories of a Shiro he did not remember being. One that had seemed fine, if not a bit more stern. And slowly the story grew darker, turning into a Shiro that snapped at those on the team who dared input an opinion that opposed him. And apparently, Lance had been victim to that harsh treatment. Lance needed a lot more positive reinforcement as a whole, and to hear he'd been beat down with words while he was only trying to be a part of the team? Lance, who was kidnapped and experimented on because Shiro had been unwittingly spying on the team.

He was not sure where he stood with Lotor.

He'd not met him. Or rather, he did not recall meeting him. Honestly, all of this was hard to accept. When he thought back to his fight with Zarkon, it had almost been like he'd...

Yes. It felt like he'd died just as Voltron overcame him. Like his soul had been ripped apart. Like his body had burst into dust. Maybe it had. Maybe this body wasn't truly his. Maybe he wasn't the real Shiro at all.

But that was impossible. He was alive and breathing. He'd just.. apparently, had his mind replaced with an alternate version of him. That still did not sit right. There had to be more to it.

Sighing, he laid back onto his pillow, staring at the bland nothingness of his little alcove. The convoluted mystery of this situation was vexing him. He'd never solve it on his own, armed only with musings and theories. Life did not come with a manual and standardized testing. No right answers, no absolutes. Not every problem could be fixed into a neat little bow.

A knock came to his door. Shiro sat up, trying to seem more composed than he felt. "Come in."

It was Keith. He walked in, seating himself right beside Shiro on the bed. "Shiro.. Are you okay?" His voice wavered, worriedly balancing on the delicate remains of their bond. "That was a lot to take in and..." Keith huffed, looking away for a moment. 

Shiro swallowed nervously despite his throat being quite dry. "I've been better, if I'm being honest."

Keith gave him a warm smile in response. "I prefer you being honest."

Shiro gave a shaky breath out, running a hand through his hair. "I feel like I've failed you all. To think, the me that was here after our battle with Zarkon? A version of me that had the audacity to push you away, to let you leave Voltron. To let you leave _me_." Shiro shifted his gaze to Keith. He couldn't really get a read on his face. But he kept talking anyway.  
"I understand I was being used. That's why I wedged myself into the team's dynamic, slowly pushing everyone apart. Separating you from Black and the team, alienating Lance so his opinion would be silenced. It was all an end goal for Haggar to make Voltron weaker."

Shiro clasped Keith's shoulder, urging him to pay close attention.

"Voltron is more than a weapon. It's powerful, but it's only as powerful as the bond between us all. We're a family Keith. Me, you, Lance, Hunk and Pidge? Even Allura and Coran. All of us are so much stronger when we stand united, not separated. With you away working with the Blades, Allura and Lotor pulling away from the castle and the team, with Hunk and Pidge keeping to themselves, leaving Coran and Lance all alone? Does that sound like it does the universe, or any of us personally, any good?"

Keith frowned deeper, looking to his lap as he mulled over Shiro's points. "No.. that sounds like.." He breathed in sharply. "Dividing us into smaller groups makes us weaker.. I get that."

A sharp pain stabbed Keith's heart, making him question every decision he'd made for himself. "I don't.. regret working with the Blades.. we've done a lot of good.. but you're right. I was needed here. They needed me. Lance needed me. But I left them." He remembered the vulnerable Lance that had shown Keith his insecurities, his worries. A Lance that wasn't as egotistical and confident as Keith had once thought. And he'd left that boy behind to fend for himself, after all the trust he'd put in him. "I'm not a good leader, Shiro. I'm no good for them. You were always the better choice."

Shiro shook his head. "I'm not perfect, Keith. We all make mistakes. We just have to learn from them. I think we both need to do some healing. I think we both need to become better leaders." Shiro murmured, squeezing Keith's shoulder. "Let's make things right. Come home, Keith. We need you."

Keith looked up into warm eyes, eyes he'd known for years and years. Eyes that felt like home. 

"Okay, Shiro." Keith would always follow Shiro. A life without him was no life at all.

\- - -

A day passed. 

Lance awoke feeling groggy after a long and dreamless sleep. His pillow was plush and soft under his head, warm from the close proximity to his breath and body heat. His muscles felt a bit tense. He might have slept a bit too long. With a groan, he pushed himself from the curled up mess of his blankets. He felt.. gross.. Barely human. Kind of like a filthy flesh sack used only to house his consiousness.

"Oh no.." He groaned, running a hand over his greasy hair. "I didn't shower before bed." Now his bedding would need a wash. Chore after chore loomed in his mind, and he'd only just woken up.

With an agonizing amount of effort, he pulled free from his warm bed and walked across the cold metal floor. He was woozy and weak limbed. He knew he needed to eat soon. Actually, if he didn't eat now, he'd likely pass out in the heat of the shower. He'd have to skip it until he'd eaten.

With a great sigh, he pulled on his old robe and slunk out of his room. He wanted to be good looking and fresh faced in front of the others, but his stomach was a little more important right now. Not to mention the thought of all the effort his normal self care routine would take. Effort, effort... why had he put so much effort in those tasks anyway? For the sake of how other people viewed him?

Nah. It had always been for himself. He liked his skin feeling smooth. Loved the time it took to work the serums into his skin. How time slowed down and suddenly nothing existed outside of the care he took for himself. It was just an added bonus that he came out of those sessions looking like a god amongst men. 

With that bright thought in mind, he managed a small, self satisfied smile, and pushed his way into the kitchen.

"Lance!" Hunk yelped, a grin as bright as the sun pulling on his face. Lance was nearly blinded, wincing and rubbing his temples.

"H-hey Hunk." He tried for a smile, but it felt kind of lacking. "What time is it?"

"Lunchtime. You slept like, twenty vargas? I dunno... a long time, anyway." Hunk had made his way over to Lance, meeting him halfway into the kitchen. He immediately wrapped Lance up in a big, warm hug. Lance grunted when his feet left the floor, his arms pinned to his sides. 

"Dude.. let up. I smell gross." He croaked from within the tomb of Hunk's embrace.

"Don't care. Just glad I can hug my bro again." Hunk said with mirth, carrying the dangling stick-man back to the counter. He let the boy go finally, and began making a plate for Lance. "We got eggs, bacon extra crispy. Not that plate though. That's for Keith. He likes it super chewy for some reason? Anyway.. we got some hash browns, they're uh.. purple. Don't ask. Also a fruit salad and for Pete's sake Lance, drink this whole glass of water, you look way too dehydrated."

Lance took this mother-henning with a grain of salt, settling into a bar stool and started drinking his water. Hunk was right, though. As soon as the water hit his tongue, he could feel how badly his body desired it. He downed the glass within a minute or two. In that time, Hunk had made them both a plate, joining Lance across the counter.

"So... breakfast for lunch?" Lance asked conversationally, shovelling some scrambled eggs into his mouth. They tasted like heaven. Buttery, fluffy, and moist. Lance felt as if he hadn't truly eaten in years.

"Yup. We all had food goo this morning. But I wanted to make sure you had a proper breakie waiting for you when you got up. You deserve it." He flashed another bright smile Lance's way. He knew he'd be fighting a wall with Lance, but it was still difficult to watch the boy barely react to his kindness. Man, he really had a long way to go to making this better. 

Lance ate sombrely, slowing his eating after only half a plate. He was sure he could eat more normally. Him and Keith used to make a bit of a mess with how vigorously they ate a meal. Maybe it was due to only having small fruit bowls once a day for... hm..

"How long was I gone, Hunk?"

Hunk frowned. "A few weeks." He set down his own utensils, his plate long since cleaned off. "It was awful here without you."

Lance snorted, pushing away his plate. "I'm sure you managed."

"Lance!" Hunk's face pulled into a horrified expression, "No.. How could you say that?"

"Look Hunk.. I appreciate what you're trying to do." Lance said with more patience than he felt. "But I'm not exactly helpful around here."

"Lance, that is hardly important." Hunk insisted a stern glare. "You could be the most skilled engineer, the best pilot, the smartest of us all? And none of that would hold a candle to just having you here to be yourself. We missed you, Lance. Just you."

Just him. Whatever he was, whatever it was he brought to the table. Looking within himself, he wasn't sure he'd want to be his own best friend. But Hunk was fighting for him. They had all fought for him. For some reason or another, his team loved him.

He just wished he knew _why._ He wished he could see himself the way others do. For all this time, the last few months? It had seemed more like they saw him as a childish nuisance. So how could Hunk sit there and say they had missed him?

It all felt like complacent lies.

"I'm taking a shower." Lance muttered, pushing away from the counter and leaving the room. Hunk watched, his breath caught in his throat. What was wrong with Lance? Why wasn't he bouncing back? He knew Lance was stronger than this.. 

So why?

And how would they ever get him back to normal again?


	8. The Importance of a Breakdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to fall apart, and come back together stronger.

He shouldn't have walked away from Hunk.

Lance agonized about it in the shower, barely able to enjoy the feeling of the warm water washing away the old sweat and dead skin off his body. He'd hurt Hunk with his bitterness. He knew he had. But it was so hard not to run away. So difficult not to give in to the hardened feeling of jaded doubt that had scarred his mind. 

He knew better. Rationally, he could see it. There was just no strength in him to fight his own mind. Not after he'd been fighting it for months already. 

He stood there in the shower longer than necessary. Stood there until his finger tips were wrinkled, and the water no longer pleasant. 

How was it possible to feel so hopeless after being rescued?

Lance eventually dragged himself from the bathroom. He walked down the hallway in his pyjama bottoms, lazily drying his hair with a towel. His steps were lethargic and heavy. He really hoped all this melancholy was just the twenty vargas of sleep's fault.

"Lance?"

Lance stopped, pulling the towel down to his neck as he looked up. It was Shiro.

\- - -

Shiro had been given the rundown of what had transpired on the ship during his memory lapse. But that didn't mean the team knew all that he'd said or done. He wanted to believe that even a corrupted version of him would have some semblance of humanity, that a version of him he didn't remember would have recognized the isolation of one of his own. 

He wondered how Lance felt about him now. Did he know Shiro had lost his memory? Did he know that he'd been taken over by Haggar? Had anyone filled Lance in?

"Can we talk?" Shiro asked with a careful smile. Lance looked tired. Hunk had been right; the boy looked defeated. 

"Sure.. I guess." Lance murmured, scratching under his wet hair. 

"Thanks, bud. You can get properly dressed first. Meet me in the training room? In about three hours from now. No rush."

Lance's brows furrowed, but he nodded. "Uh yeah. See you then." With some hesitation, Lance veered off toward his room. Shiro breathed in shakily, and made his way to the training room. 

\- - -

So here they were, seated cross legged on the training room floor, about a foot or so apart. Shiro and Lance sat facing one another. The room was silent save for their occasional shifting.

"You uh.. wanted to talk?" Lance asked, dressed now in his usual getup, clothes freshly laundered. 

"Mmhm. I wanted to fill you in on some things. And I hoped you'd be able to help me fill some blanks of my own." 

Lance tilted his head. Shiro needed him for something? That was new. Not to mention how refreshing it was that he wasn't being asked to open up or start 'the healing process' like Allura and Hunk kept wanting him to do. He wasn't ready to talk. He wasn't ready to go back to the old Lance. He didn't know if that Lance was alive anymore. He was more than happy to skirt the edges of this issue than to dive in deep.

"Okay." Lance smiled casually, relaxing his shoulders. 

"So Lance.. I'm not sure how badly this will affect you, but I wanted you to hear it from me, rather than the team." Shiro's words took Lance back to the dread he'd felt earlier. Maybe this wouldn't be such a casual conversation. "Lance.. when you were kidnapped... Something happened to me."

Both of them held their breath, both bracing for what was to be said. 

"I've been told that.. Haggar had possessed my mind. That I turned on the team. That she had been doing this for quite some time. Ever since I went missing after we fought Zarkon. And.. well.. Once Haggar was killed? All those memories of my time here under her control.. They're gone."

This was two big pills to swallow. Lance slowly broke them apart within the ethers of his mind. Shiro had been controlled. Shiro lost all those memories, including the memories of the two of them forming a close relationship. Those times Shiro had built Lance up during his episodes, before and during his sickness. All that time.. all those bonds. They were gone. They were meaningless. Practically a figment of Lance's mind. No one else had seen that Shiro. He'd never existed.

How much of those Shiros had been the true Shiro. How many had been Haggar. He thought of all the trust he'd placed in him...

And on the other side of it.. after Lotor had joined them? Shiro had changed. All the times that same Shiro had looked at him with disdain, as if Lance was a worm. Like Lance had nothing to offer the team. Like his presence was a mockery of a real hero. Like he had nothing to contribute. Just a fill in or a child playing with swords. Had that Shiro been more heavily Haggar's influence? Or maybe Haggar never had to dig too far to see what Shiro truly thought.

Shiro went on, his eyes on his lap. "The team seems to think Haggar was using me as a spy, which is why you were targeted in the first place. My worry is what it is she must have seen to have gone after you at all... Lance?" Shiro looked up and..

Lance looked pale. Shiro's brows furrowed, worry etched in lines across his forehead, at the corners of his eyes. He'd perhaps placed too much on Lance right off the bat. He knew they hadn't been close before he disappeared. In fact, he recalled he'd been a little distant with him when the boy just needed a little more attention. A little more positive encouragement. But Shiro had been too busy wit the mission, or Keith. Lance had just been an ego-fuelled teenager. Shiro.. had not thought much of him. 

But Lance seemed vacant. Drained and faded. A sun worn poster on the wall. 

"Lance?" He asked again, softer. Lance looked up, his gaze either on the verge of tears or too strung out to even fathom a drop.

"All of it.." Lance murmured, accusation in his dim blue eyes. "Was it all a lie? What.." He bit his lip, angry at himself for feeling bitter. Shiro didn't mean to lose his memories, but it felt so awful to be left so alone.

"Lance, please.." He begged, "..what did she see?" Shiro was worried about what he'd missed between them. Lance looked upset. There was a big development between them he must have missed. Without the context, he couldn't begin to help Lance.

Embarrassment and shame crept up Lance's neck, burning holes into his pores. He could never reveal the meltdown he'd had to Shiro that day after the big dinner so many months ago. He couldn't tell him how he'd talked him through all those emotional relapses. Or how a few weeks ago he'd flipped it and treated him like the burden Lance truly was.

But now? Now he had to keep all those awful things to himself again. Not like that was weird, he supposed. It was simply heavy. Yes, very heavy. Very lonely. Like being left behind and forgotten at a supermarket with no way to go home.

"If.." Shiro shrank into himself, a gesture unbecoming of his size, "If it's that you can't talk about it because it's too much? We can always use those mind meld devices. But only if you want to open yourself up. It's your memories.. and they may involve me but.. I don't want you to feel any more uncomfortable than you already do, Lance."

Lance looked up at Shiro. He didn't know what to do. Shiro needed this. The team needed it. Lance... Lance didn't know what he needed. Maybe a hug. But he didn't want to ask. Why be vulnerable again? What was the point? Why go through it all again? The only reprieve was feeling that his emotions and doubts were once again his own. Whatever he'd done in that well had truly taken out every last influence of Haggar's magic.

A mind meld device might be easier than talking, but not if it gave away more than he wanted to. He wasn't positive he wished to give anything at all. He deserved his secrets.

"Okay, Shiro. I'll talk."

"Lance.. no. I'm not forcing you. I just thought it would be a good idea. If you don't want to.."

"No, it's okay." Lance put his hands up, physically blocking the kindness from reaching him. "It's as much for me as it is for you. I think it'll be a good idea to get it all out in the air. I may as well start from the beginning." It was the road he didn't want to take, full of effort and pain. So it was probably the right one. He wanted to give up, lay down and let the universe eat him. So he'd do the opposite.

He breathed in. He breathed out. Lance began to speak.

\- - -

Shiro was at a loss.

Lance had braved through the outline of the time they'd had together that the team never saw, even mentioning things in more detail that the team had skimmed over. He was happy to know during his weird little memory blank that he'd helped Lance through some very vulnerable emotional issues.. Never mind the concern he felt knowing Lance had been doubting his place here all this time. Then whatever Haggar had done once Lotor came caused Shiro to ignore him or even put him down. Like yelling at him during their discussion about the Kral Zera.

Shiro felt he really needed to pay better attention to those that seemed strong. Maybe he even ought to pay Coran more mind, even if that kind of scared him. 

Lance for his part looked small now. Rubbing his arm uncomfortably, as if he felt guilty of something. The teen seemed so cocky and self assured from his own memories. He wondered if he'd gotten him wrong all this time, and his disinterest had been more detrimental than he'd thought. Or maybe this turn of character was recent.

Regardless, he couldn't remain speechless too long. The kid already looked like he was plotting a joke to dismiss his short spiel of vulnerability and flee the scene.

"Lance. I really appreciate you telling me all this." Lance gave him a brief twitch of his lips in lieu of a smile. 

"Yeah, no problem." 

Shiro shook his head. "Things have been rough for you, but there's something I want you to know. I.. I'm proud of you."

Lance looked up, surprise flashing over his face. "Huh?" Surely Shiro was only saying this to get Lance back to normal, right? But he seemed sincere..

"Truly, Lance." Shiro insisted, "It's not easy fighting your own head. Believe me, I know. To be able to shoulder so much of your own doubts and loneliness, to continue fighting and working as part of the team with all that hurt? That takes someone with a lot of mental fortification, and a lot of inner strength. You put your team before your own worries, you stood beside them even after you felt left behind or put down. You may not feel strong, Lance. But you are. There are many men out there who would crumble under half of what you went though."

Lance's eyes looked a little watery, and he was biting his lip as if to hold something back. But he remained still and silent. 

Shiro smiled. "You did good, Lance. Great, even. Now you don't have to fight it alone anymore. Just like you trusted me before, the me I don't remember.. trust in me now. I'm here for you. You don't have to fight by yourself anymore."

He leaned forward, clapping the younger man on the shoulder with a firm squeeze. Lance quivered under his touch. "I-I don't... I really don't think I'm that strong.." Lance wavered, trying valiantly to speak his piece without losing his composure. "I cried a lot. And I got super upset over stupid things.. I was practically throwing a two month long tantrum."

Shiro smiled again, warmer, brighter. "Breaking down isn't weakness, Lance. It's human. It's healthy. You held it in too long, that's all. Friends and teammates? They are there to hold each other up when we get knocked down. We use bandages when we hurt ourselves physically, and we lend an ear or a shoulder when our hearts are hurt. One pain should never be more valid than another."

Lance sniffed indignantly. He could feel the wall he'd built up crumbling behind the tide of his emotions. He'd not wanted to let himself feel anymore, he'd not wanted to be the team's weak link. Not the whiney one, not the noisy one. He wanted to be... To be a Shiro, or even a Keith. Hunk, or Pidge. Cool people with real skills that made it into newspapers and rock magazines. People that the world looked to with awe and envy. No one would ever see him that way, no matter what Shiro said.

But...

But Shiro's open arms, welcoming a hug, looked too warm and inviting. Not even his pity party could hold a candle to it. Breathing out a resigned sigh, Lance shifted closer to the bigger man. Shiro laughed, "Jeez. Don't look _too_ excited." Lance couldn't help but laugh too. He let himself get enveloped in that hug. He might have cried. A little. He'd tried not to, but the wet spot on Shiro's shoulder was impossible to blame on sweat. Not to mention his nose was running no matter how hard he sniffed. 

"Breaking down is healthy, Lance." Shiro reminded him patiently. 

Lance snorted. "Since when do you ever break down?" 

Shiro shifted uncomfortably. "Well.. not in the same way you do. You're a lot healthier with your emotions than I am. I could actually stand to take a page from your book."

"I'll get the tissues ready." Lance muttered, his voice muffled by the fabric of Shiro's shirt. 

They fell into comfortable silence, until Lance was okay enough to pull away on his own. He sniffled once more, rubbing his wet nose on his own sleeve. 

"Thanks, Shiro." Lance finally gave a small smile. How was it that Shiro, whether this one or the missing memories of him, could always find the right words? What life experiences were jam packed into this man to make him so wise and empathetic? "I feel a little better."

"Good. I'm glad. I don't want you hiding from us, alright? It does no one any good, especially not you. No one on this ship should ever have to suffer alone." Shiro stood, and offered Lance his hand. "We're a family, Lance. We fight, we compete.. but we're always there for one another. The good times, the ugly times. No one is exempt."

Lance nodded, grabbing his hand and hoisting himself up with Shiro's help. "I get it. I'll try and patch things up with the others."

The older man shook his head. "Nuh uh. Not just you. From what I've gathered, you'd been doing most of the chasing before things went downhill. It's not fair you weren't included in a lot of the team's downtime. You have your own strengths. There's no use comparing what you offer to the rest of us. Now that I'm back? Things are changing around here."

Shiro said this with a gleam in his eye and a dangerous grin. Lance groaned loudly, "Is that a hint that team training exercises are making a come back?"

The man laughed, slapping Lance's back and walking towards the exit. "You bet it is."

Lance whined even louder, already feeling like his old self. "Shiro noooooo!! I don't DO five am!" His voice followed Shiro through the hallway, the older man's deep laughter echoing down once cold halls.

\- - -

Hunk felt hope brighten his heart like sunlight shining through a jar of bright, clear honey.

The team was altogether at breakfast. Sure, it was just food goo again, but Lance was there. Keith was there. And they both looked really good. Keith seemed to sit taller, and Lance's complexion was healthier than before. He must have slept well. There was something else too. He'd walked in with a fairly bright smile, giving Hunk a high five before settling in. 

He let hope shine through. Because Lance looked like he might be coming back to them. 

It hit him as he was eating, that they were all together again. Not just because Keith was back, although that on its own was jarring. No, it was like something that had been broken seemed fixed again. Like a loose wheel, or a wobbly table leg. Things seemed to be upright again. 

Hunk smiled to himself, his round cheeks warm with the fuzzy thought of his space family being a working unit once more. The castle once again felt like home.

_Home._

"Say, guys?" Hunk asked, earning the attention of all present. "So like.. Haggar is gone. Lotor is starting to unite the Empire, the coalition and the blades are cleaning up the universe... what's left for us? For Voltron?"

"Well.. Sendak is still out there." Allura set down her cutlery with a frown. "And other warlords worth keeping an eye on. I'd be cautious of leaving such dangerous leaders in the hands of only the coalition. They will need our help."

Shiro caught Hunk's eye, noting the look of weary homesickness looming. 

"That's true," He agreed, setting his own spoon down. "But we're making a lot of headway. Don't worry, Hunk. We'll see Earth again soon."

Hunk flinched, feeling guilty for his own selfish desire to go back home. He'd not realized he'd been so transparent. "Right. Sure. Piece of cake." Somehow, he'd almost let himself believe it might finally be time to retire Voltron. 

"I could go for cake.." Lance murmured, poking at the last half of his plate of goo. One of the mice sat eagerly at the rim of the plate, looking up at Lance with pleading eyes. He gave a soft snort, offering the moocher his full spoon.

Shiro thought for a moment. Keith looked up as he watched the older man lean towards Allura and conspire softly with her. The former Blade raised his brow, leaning across the table to try and figure out what secrets they were keeping, to no avail.

After a few minutes, Shiro rose from the table. "Be ready in the hanger in twenty minutes." He said with a grin, "We have a mission."

\- - -

Morale, despite things finally getting better for the team, was still low. Shiro saw it in the worn down faces of his fellow paladins. Their inner strength was strained from the constant battles, vigilance and ongoing danger of their life in space. Many of them missed home, but none more than Hunk and Lance. He worried for those two quite a bit. Hunk seemed to distract himself fairly well, but Lance was still on the mend from all he'd went through. Not to mention the worrying state of the young man's thoughts on his place in the team and the world in general.

Keith.. well, he'd talked to Keith. But Shiro still felt he needed to work a bit more on that front. Pidge, for one reason or another, seemed the most composed through all of this. She had her family, after all, even if they were spread across the universe. But she had her own work to do, and she had the assurance that they were well. 

Allura and Coran had each other, and no matter what snooping Shiro did, he couldn't find too much wrong there, although he did worry about Allura and Lotor's little drama.

Lotor.. that was one thing Shiro had no basis for drawing a conclusion on. If only he'd retained some of those lost memories. But that Shiro had been a different man. He'd been a Shiro influenced by dark magic, and used for an ulterior motive.

That being said, his own issues were a whole other bag of cats that he'd rather avoid.

The team met in the hanger, most of the young faces confused about the choice in meeting place.

"Alright team. There is a lot we have to work on over the course of the next few weeks. But we've had enough heavy talks for now. So, with Allura's permission? We're going on a field trip."

Hunk snorted. "Oh man. I feel like we're back in school." He said with a grin, nudging Lance with his elbow. Lance smirked too.

"Laugh all you want." Shiro said with a chuckle of his own, "But it's a good idea to take focus off the big picture now and then. You've all been fighting hard and fast. It's time to take a step away from the castle, and let your minds relax."

He stepped aside, as Coran got a pod ready. 

Shiro was excited to announce where they'd be headed. It was a place the paladins had been before, but one Shiro had not. 

"Team! We're headed to the mall."


	9. Something Wicked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The space mall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I struggled with this one.

Chapter 9 - Space Mall

A month of solitary confinement had done more damage than he'd thought. Lance looked out at the crowds of people wandering the mall, listened to the symphony of loud conversations and far off pop music that made up the atmosphere of the Space Mall. He was overwhelmed. This place would have brought him excitement and joy a few months ago. It would have pulled him into loud antics to compete with all others vying for attention. He'd be flirting and exploring and enjoying every drop of the energy this place gave off.

But now he felt cornered and uncertain. Like he no longer knew what to do. "Uh.. maybe I should just watch the pod.." He murmured as he backed away from the swarming crowds threatening to engulf him. 

Hunk moved in, putting an arm around Lance's hunched shoulders, effectively blocking him from the intimidating crowds. "Sorry buddy. Shiro said this was a bonding exercise." 

Keith scoffed as Hunk dragged the red clad loner into his other side. "You too, space ninja." Hunk had both boys pinned, so the pair shared a look of trapped dismay. 

Pidge yelped as the growing crowds nearly swallowed her up. Allura pulled her back towards the team, holding the smaller female to her front like a protective mother. 

"Okay, Team! We're here on a mission." Shiro said with more enthusiasm than was necessary. The loss of his memories had spooked him, and it seemed to show in his attempts at togetherness. "I know it's crowded, but let's try to stay together. I asked everyone earlier something they'd like to see or do here. Our goal is to check off everything on the list."

"Cool plan, Shiro." Hunk beamed, still keeping his two lanky charges at his sides. "What's first on the list?"

"Lance and Pidge both wanted to check out the Earth Store." Shiro answered as he looked at the small tablet in his hand. "Let's head over. Pidge? Lead the way."

"Got it!" The small paladin was now situated happily upon Allura's shoulders. Allura looked quite pleased with herself, and the pair led the way through crowds of bustling aliens. However, it became clear that sticking together was easier said than done. By the time Allura, Pidge and Shiro had made it to the Earth Store, they realized the boys were nowhere to be seen.

"How the heck did we lose Hunk?" Pidge huffed from her perch. "He's big! And he had Keith with him. That kid could glare a hole into a wall."

"It's okay Pidge. We did prepare for this." Shiro said with only a small amount of concern. "We have communicators. So long as we're in groups, everything will be fine." 

Allura wandered into the store with Pidge on her shoulders. The alien princess was enamoured with all of the strange contraptions Earth had invented. "Why would humans require their thrones to have fountains?" She asked while looking upon a display with a toilet on it.

"That's not.." Pidge began, but Allura was already onto the next thing. Shiro smiled fondly, walking alongside the pair and trying not to laugh at every blatantly wrong description of each item. Him and Pidge exchanged a glance, smirking with mirth. 

"We should try and find a present for Lance while we're here." Pidge suggested, climbing down from Allura's back. They had arrived at a display of 'one use frisbees', which Pidge knew were CDs. "Maybe some music?"

Shiro crossed his arms and nodded. "Good idea. Don't forget to pick something out for yourself. By the way, Allura? Where did you get the money for this trip? It couldn't be easy getting enough for all of us to have spending money."

"Never you mind, Shiro. A princess has her ways." She said so confidently that left no room to argue. In truth, she had bartered some of her jewellery at a previous swap moon. It was a small price to pay to see her long suffering paladins have a bit of fun. After all, they'd given up their lives as ordinary citizens to help her save the universe. Destined or not, it was clear they needed the time to replenish their morale and spirit.

"I hope the boys are doing okay." She wondered aloud, poking at a rainbow spiral of metal. Shiro gave her a reassuring smile. "I'm sure they're fine."

\- - -

"He's looking at me funny.." Keith growled.

"No he's not, Keith. Settle down. Lance! Lance, don't wander off!"

"Hunk! They have garlic bread!"

"What! Really?! Oh man... I-- KEITH! Heel!"

Hunk was feeling like a distraught babysitter. One teen ready to start fights with every mall goer who happened to bump into him, clearly agitated by the crowds he was not used to. Lance on the other hand was as distracted as a three year old on a sugar high. Hunk wanted to be happy that the boy was finally loosening up, but it was very difficult not to lose the pair.

The Samoan dragged Lance by the collar, the lanky teen's cheeks stuffed with free samples. He then grabbed Keith by the arm, dragging him away from a group of alien men who'd managed to tick him off somehow. "I'm never having kids." Hunk grumbled with his pair of trouble makers.   
He plopped the pair of them onto a finally free table. "Okay. I'll go get us lunch. Just sit still, don't move, and I'll be right back!" He spread his hands out, as if steadying a teetering vase on the edge of a desk, slowly backing away. The pair blinked at him.

"Relaaaax, Hunk." Lance sighed with a wave of his hand. "We'll be fine. Right, Keith?"

Keith leaned in his chair, shrugging without commitment. 

That would have to be good enough. Hunk sighed with worry, and finally turned away.

Once Hunk was out of sight, Lance startled Keith by slamming his palms on the table, leaning forward to stare down the former desert dweller. "Down to business." Lance announced in a dark voice. Keith eyed the other boy wearily, leaning his body away from him. "You seem.. energetic. What do you want?" Keith asked with trepidation. Lance just stared him down, dead serious. 

"Girls."

"What?"

"Girls, Keith." Lance said again, beady eyes darting around the crowded mall. "I've been locked in a witch's prison for a month. Before that I was haunted by a druid curse that turned my emotions against me. I'm on the edge, man. I need a soft, tender female to placate my fractured soul."

Keith groaned, running a hand down his face. "Seriously, dude?"

"Yes." Lance insisted, lightening up his act and looking around the food court. "Help me pick one out. If we play our cards right, all three of us walk out of here with a girl on our arm."

"I'm not playing any cards." Keith scoffed, crossing his arms in defiance. "If you wanna pick up girls, do it yourself. Don't drag me into your perverted little games." Seriously. He'd been worried about this loser, and here he was, back to the skirt chasing lunatic from a year previous.

"C'mon man!" Lance whined, throwing himself down onto the table, arms cradling its sides. "I don't wanna do it myself! I'm scared!"

"Why? You flirt with girls all the time." 

"What if they don't like me?" He whined self consciously, sinking in his seat. That.. did not seem like Lance. The guy wafted confidence. They barely stayed on a planet one minute before the guy was throwing himself at the first female he saw. He couldn't recall many instances where any girl rebuffed his affections. 

"They always like you." Keith said in a much kinder voice than he meant to. It came with the sincerity of his reply. "What exactly is your endgame here, Lance?"

"Endgame?"

"Yeah." Keith rubbed his forehead. This was not his forte. Why was Lance dragging him into his weird antics, anyway? Keith was completely out of his element. "You flirt with the girl, they laugh or whatever. You hang out. Then what?"

Lance stared at him with a befuddled expression. "Uh... I make them laugh, and it feels good?"

Was that it? He just wanted to make someone happy? Or did he just want to be the centre of attention? Both seemed fairly plausible. "Then just talk to Allura or Pidge?"

Lance groaned, "No, man. It's not the same. Pidge is practically one of the guys. And Allura.. well, she's with Lotor so..."

"Lotor..?" Keith took a moment to let that sink in. His face scrunched up a moment later. "Ew."

"Ew?! Dude, they're gorgeous together!"

"What? Why are you defending them? I thought you were jealous?"

"Insanely jealous!!"

"Does it have to be a girl then? I seriously have no idea what you want out of this, Lance." Keith was looking over the crowd now, silently begging Hunk to hurry up and get him out of this conversation.

"I-I dunno!" Lance whined, ruffling his hair in a panic. "I just want, like, love and comfort and stuff!"

"So... like a mom?" Keith asked cautiously, not really being an expert on that front either. It just seemed like the closest thing to what Lance described.

Lance for his part looked mortified. Did... _did_ he just want his mom? And all this skirt chasing was just a placebo for maternal support? If so, he needed to really rethink his life choices.

Hunk showed up, and found the atmosphere at the table was thicker than a cold stick of butter. He gave a low whistle. "Woooah. What the heck happened to you two?" He set down their trays, laden with delicious smelling meals. Hunk's tray had the equivalent of spaghetti and meatballs with a side of garlic bread. Keith and Lance both had what looked to be standard fast food meals, similar to burgers and fries. 

"Nothing." They moaned un unison, both taking a bite of the burger like food they'd been given. They both spat them out instantly.

"This tastes like moldy tomato soup mixed with cardboard!" Lance bellowed, running his tongue frantically on a paper towel. Keith gagged into his own napkin, void of words to describe his pain.

Hunk frowned. "Aw man. I knew I should have gone with the deluxe combo.."

\- - -

Hunk dragged the sullen boys through the mall on a hunt for Shiro, or something shiny. Hunk had ended up sharing his meal with the pair out of guilt and pity, and now all three were left still hungry. A large gathering had caught their attention, complete with someone shouting from a large metal podium.

"Family fun for everyone! Get your picture taken with Krampus!"

Keith breathed in so suddenly that Lance and Hunk thought he'd stubbed his tow or something. "Krampus?" He whispered with awe. "That's an Earth urban legend."

Lance's eyes widened, "Oh yeah, I think you're right.. Is... is _Krampus_ real?"

The three boys eyed each other wearily. Hunk looked especially twitchy. "Uh.. should we go find the others now..?"

Keith shook his head, "No way. I want a picture of Krampus." He said defiantly, dark eyes determined. Lance was on the fence about the whole thing. "Isn't he evil, though? I don't wanna meet a child eater."

"Good point, Lance!" Hunk whined nervously. "So we should definitely go." He began to drag the pair away from the crown and commotion. Keith was none too pleased to be manhandled away from the situation. 

"Lemme go, Hunk!" He growled, grabbing at Hunk's arm to pry himself away.

"What's going on here?" Allura's voice rose over the trio's barking. They looked behind them and found that Shiro, Pidge and Allura were there, looking like a strange little family unit. Shiro had multiple bags and boxes in both strong arms. Allura was carrying Pidge on her shoulders to keep her safe from the shoving crowds. It was kind of adorable.

Hunk beamed, "Oh thank the stars. Keith wants to meet Krampus, and I keep telling him it's a really bad idea."

"Krampus?" Allura asked with a smile, "Oh how cute. Keith, you're so much more in tune with your inner child than I would have thought."

Keith's face went from red and fierce to pale and appalled within a second. "Did.. did you just call me childish?" He wheezed, the fight in his struggle waning. 

Allura smiled fondly, "Krampus is a well known celebrity among the children in the galaxy. Said to bring prosperity to good little ones, and a long suffering death to those that are bad."

"Yeah that's.... kind of similar to what we know of him on Earth." Shiro murmured, struggling with the weight of their shopping trip. "Why did you want to see him, Keith?"

Keith was dismayed, his passion for cryptids and myths feeling less like a proud and worthy hobby, and more like a naive undertaking. "I... wanted his picture.. for my..." His face pinked in embarrassment, and Shiro immediately felt terrible. He needed to save this situation.

"Okay! Let's all get our photo with Krampus." Shiro announced with a grin. Pidge, Allura and Lance all looked elated. Hunk and Keith looked sick.

"Good idea, Shiro. What a lovely memento to remember our little venture by." Allura led them to the giant line. There were prickly garlands filled with symbols and omens, the whole decor smelling strongly of pine and rot. Allura kept giggling about how she was reminded of her childhood. The rest of the team began to feel the true weight of Hunk's original concern.

Pidge took advantage. She leaned down from her perch, right next to Lance's ear, and said "He knows you've been a naughty boy, Lance."

Lance shrieked, jumping into Hunk's arms, who was also shrieking.

Shiro dragged a hand down his face. "I'm never having children."


	10. Somewhere Else

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance struggles to quiet his mind while free of druid influence, and Shiro discovers something the druids did that threatens his grip on his own identity.

Chapter 10

Terrible dreams plagued Lance ever since his return. Whenever he thought he was getting better, recovering from the brainwashing and emotional tampering of his brain; whenever he thought he was getting along better with the team, a dream would ruin everything. Dreams of home, corrupted family members and team mates that spoke venom or left him alone on a planet. He would rush into his old home in some dreams, only to find it long abandoned. Dreams where Haggar had killed everyone he loved, and fully expected him to walk into her open arms. 

Lance stayed up one night, endlessly ruminating on why that witch woman had become so obsessed with making him loyal to her. She was dead though. He wanted so badly to let it all go. None of this obsessive wondering about the what ifs was actually helping him in any way.   
But those dreams, those nightmares of empty houses and dusty shelves, of team mates that would sooner leave the burden of a compromised Lance all alone on some deserted planet? Those dreams stuck to him like grime. 

Maybe he would never get better. What if he never got free?

He shook his head, flopping back onto the military bare bedroom on the castle ship he called home. He'd hold it together. Like always. After all, he had a universe to keep safe. No matter what he felt, or what happened to him, his own circumstances had to come second.

\- - -

With very little sleep, Lance joined the others on the bridge. Allura had Lotor on the large display; a meeting of some sort. 

"Oh good. You're all here." Allura smiled and turned back to Lotor. "Lotor has news for us." The team looked up at the screen, where the leader of the Galra stood amidst a grand control room.

"Yes, thank you, Allura. I just wanted to say first, that I am relieved to see everyone safe and sound after such a harrowing endeavour regarding the Druids. I myself and sorry that I was not able to much on my end." The emperor did seem to be sincere, though Lance could never shake the feeling of distrust in his heart. 

"One thing I did manage to find in my search was directions to a facility once run by Haggar. She's gone now, but the druids are still out there, I suspect. Perhaps you'd like to investigate this place, and keep it out of their hands. You have the Empire's permission to do with it as you will."

Lance looked to the others as they mulled over Lotor's words. Why would the empire not take care of this on their own? Maybe it was just courtesy, considering what the druids had done to them. On the other hand, it sounded dangerously fishy.

Allura, however, smiled up at the screen with grateful warmth. "Thank you for your hard work, Lotor. I know it wasn't easy."

Hunk raised a hand, "Uhh.. not to be ungrateful or anything? But you don't think it might be dangerous?"

"We can't let the druids or their work become a bigger problem in the universe, Hunk." Allura met his concern with calm, assured logic. "Haggar may be gone, but we can't be complacent. If her druids band together, or spread their influence further out into the universe, it could put many races in great danger." 

"We'll check out the facility." Shiro stepped up to the front of the room, addressing his team. "We'll be cautious. Thank you, Lotor."

The emperor nodded and cut off the communication. A moment later, Pidge downloaded the map to the quadrant in space they needed to get to. "It doesn't say what the facility used to be for. We're going in blind."

Lance couldn't hold it anymore. He had to voice his concerns. "Does no one else think it's weird that the Empire didn't have _any_ tabs on druid activity? Haggar and the druids were a part of the empire, even if they were like.. a bit of an outlier. This whole scenario reeks, if you ask me." He crossed his arms, his gut burning with warning. Hunk clapped him on the shoulder, the bigger man obviously siding with Lance. He felt a happy warmth in his heart at the camaraderie of it.

Allura frowned, whether from any doubt she might be having over Lotor or some semblance of disappointment of Lance. He tried to imagine it was the former. 

"Perhaps you have a point.." She relented, fiddling with her fingers. "But at the end of the day, we still need to see this through. There is a possible threat to peace, and it is our job as Voltron to snuff it out."

\- - -

They landed the castle on the crumbled remains of a moon based facility. The walk was long, silent, contemplative. Lanced looked at the backs of his team. They were all together again, but somehow it seemed fractured still. He wondered if any of them were uncertain of their place in the whole dynamic of their roles as paladins. Shiro had a year and change missing from his memories; he was barely the same man they'd gotten to know. Keith had been a Blade of Marmora for months now. Did he fit in anymore? Was he shaky and unbalanced to be back again? Or maybe the two of them were quick to bounce back.

He missed the early days. Simple times, where they each knew their place, for the most part. Maybe Keith struggled a bit to fit in sometimes. And Lance worried often times whether what he did was enough, as he fumbled through the task of a leg of Voltron with some degree of difficulty. He remembered how often he was chastised for throwing off the balance during battle. And back then, Shiro's PTSD seemed to be more prevalent. Those early days had many trials, but it didn't seem as big and muddied as everything was now. At the end of the day, they'd been family to one another.

It seemed so long ago.

 _I want to go home_ was a haunting feeling that had followed Lance around since he came to space. He always, always wanted to go home. He wanted family. He wanted warmth and love. 

Space was cold. Fractured. 

Finally, after being lost in his head for far too long, they made it to a long tunnel between two cliffs, and towards an open air facility. It was lined with darkened pods, unactivated, or perhaps just dormant. The place felt haunted and eerie. Lance whined without meaning to, a weird gurgling distress from the back of his throat. He caught Hunk's eye. The other boy was also looking uneasy, and an understanding of 'don't mention the fact I just whined like a hurt puppy' passed between them. For once, his Garrison friend did not pick fun at Lance's slip, and he went on ahead. 

Lance let out a contained sigh of relief, and struggled to think of words and noise to fill up the uncomfortable silence. The group was already spreading out, examining every inch of the odd facility. Pidge was hooking up her gauntlet to an old computer, and Lance decided to hover near her. 

Data and images, although corrupted with damage, started to flicker on the screen above them. Outlines of a human like entity, an arm missing, Galran language labelling it all out. Pidge scanned it all with a growing look of horror. "Oh no.." Her voice was thick, a tremor of disgust and trepidation. "Shiro.."

Shiro? Lance, puzzled, looked out at the former Black Paladin, who was dusting off the surface of one of the dormant pods. But suddenly, the whole facility flared to life as if struck with sudden power. Pidge seemed surprised, so it must not have been her doing, but that was the least of their worries.

Facing them all, surrounding them, layer by layer and wall to wall, were the pods now glowing with life. And within each and every one of them were variations of Shiro.

The paladin himself was struck still with horror. His face, his body, copied and pasted in every direction. Who did this? Why did they do this? How long had this place been here? 

The man was pale and sick looking from where his team stood scattered about. Keith looked between the real Shiro and the hundreds of copies, his gut twisting in surreal discomfort. 

"Welcome, Paladins of Voltron."

The five of them turned, and found a group of six druids standing at the entrance. Shiro, shaken but trying valiantly to be a leader, stepped forward. "What is this place? What do you want?" He had too many questions. Most of them burning for answers regarding this facility and himself. But he tried his best to focus on a bigger picture, one that concerned the whole universe.

One druid stepped forward, pulling off their hood to reveal a terrifying alien. So this was the face of the druid race? 

"Hello, former Champion." The alien seemed pleased, his slimy voice almost melodic with glee. "Welcome home."

No one spoke for a moment. The air was thin, yet the tension high. The paladins all had to digest this information, working out what it meant. They turned to Shiro almost in unison. The man looked grey, his normally resolved demeanour shattered with shock. Did Shiro believe what the druids were saying? Surely they were just giving the former prisoner a hard time, right?

But what if it was true?

"Shiro?" Keith asked fretfully, already at the man's side and shaking his shoulder. Shiro remained stunned still, his mind clearly somewhere else.

The druids were slowly forming a circle around the group of paladins. Pidge summoned her bayard, but Hunk and Lance stayed where they were, just bracing themselves for whatever was to come. Lance spared Shiro a worried glance. 

"Wh-what is this place?" Hunk finally had the courage to ask, his fists clenched as he watched some of the druids slink along the perimeter. The voice of one of the druid's, they weren't sure which one, answered them cryptically, "A place we kept the spares."

Spares? Of Shiro? Then... clones? Why would they make clones of him?

Dark energy sparked from one druid to another, forming a horrid barrier around the group. Behind them was the edge of the platform they were on, which held nothing below it but the infinity of space. A fall from there would bring them to the edge of the artificial gravity of the moon, and out into the unforgiving nothingness. 

The paladins tried not to be intimidated into stepping back towards that edge. After all, Shiro still had not moved from his hunched position, his hands now curled tightly in his short hair. Keith had abandoned attempting to rouse the man, and instead stood in front of him with his sword drawn.

"You think because Haggar is gone that we have no sway over your little copy?" One of the druids crooned, and suddenly the blazing energy amplified, and they heard Shiro scream.

He was bent over double, his mind in such chaos that he could no longer hold a grip on the physical realm. Keith was at his side, trying to coax him out of it. Lance ran over, shielding them with his blaster rifle pointed at the glowing druids. Whatever power they had on Shiro was not effecting Lance. He heaved a silent sigh that he truly had gotten rid of the seed of dark magic Haggar had put in his brain.

But just as he was ready to open fire, the ring of druids fired a blast towards the paladins. Hunk and Pidge were enveloped in a flash of purple. They vanished a second later.

Lance screamed, terror and loss ripping through his body as he fired on the druids. But as one more blast was aimed at Keith and Shiro, Lance dove to block it with his own body.

The trio was thrown from the side of the platform, their bodies glowing with a crackling purple energy. Below them, a gaping and distorted wormhole. Lance tried to reach of Keith, who was holding Shiro with one arm, and reaching for Lance with the other.

"Lance!!"

A flash of something. White, then darkness.

When Lance woke up hours later, in a state of foggy disorientation, it was on a planet he'd never seen.

And he was alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part two of the series is complete, and on a cliffhanger (SORRY!)
> 
> Part three (the final part) will be up when I have a much more significant idea of how to go about writing it. It'll focus on Shiro, Lance and Keith surviving on a planet alone (and eventually together).


End file.
